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Little  Eyolf 


Little  Eyolf 


BY 
HENRIK    IBSEN 


NEW  YORK 

FOX   DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 
1906 


COPYRIGHT,    1894,     BY 
STONE    AND    KIMBALL 


p 


Little  Eyolf 


Little   Eyolf. 


THE    FIRST  ACT. 


A  pretty  and  richly-decorated  garden-room,  full 
of  furniture,  flowers,  and  plants.  At  the  back, 
open  glass  doors,  leading  out  to  a  veranda. 
An  extensive  view  over  the  fjord.  In  the  dis- 
tance, wooded  hillsides.  A  door  in  each  of 
the  side  walls,  the  one  on  the  right  a  folding 
door,  placed  far  back.  In  front  on  the  right, 
a  sofa,  with  cushions  and  rugs.  Beside  the 
sofa,  a  small  table  and  chairs.  In  front  to  the 
left,  a  larger  table  with  arm-chairs  around  it. 
On  the  table  stands  an  open  hand-bag.  It  is 
an  early  summer  morning,  with  warm  sunshine. 

Mrs.  RITA  ALLMERS  stands  beside  the  table, 
facing  towards  the  left,  engaged  in  unpacking 
the  bag.  She  is  a  handsome,  rather  tall,  well- 
developed  blonde,  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
dressed  in  a  light-colored  morning-gown. 

Shortly  after,  Miss  ASTA  ALLMERS  enters  by  the 
door  on  the  right,  wearing  a  light  brown 
summer  dress,  with  hat,  jacket,  and  parasol. 
Under  her  arm  she  carries  a  rather  large 
locked  portfolio.  She  is  slim,  of  middle 
height,  with  dark  hair,  and  deep,  earnest  eyes. 
Twenty-five  years  old. 


io  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[As  she  enfersJ]  Good-morning,  my  dear 
Rita. 

RITA. 

[Turns  her  head,  and  nods  to  her.~]  What  ! 
is  that  you,  Asta?  Come  out  from  town  so 
early?  All  this  way? 

ASTA. 

[Takes  off  her  things,  and  lays  them  on  a 
chair  beside  the  door.']  Yes,  such  a  restless 
feeling  came  over  me.  I  felt  I  must  come  out 
to-day  and  see  how  little  Eyolf  was  getting 
on  —  and  you  too.  [Lays  the  portfolio  on  tlic 
table  beside  the  sofa.~]  So  I  took  the  steamer 
and  here  I  am. 

RITA. 

[Smiling  to  her.~]  And  I  daresay  you  met 
one  or  other  of  your  friends  on  board?  Quite 
by  chance,  of  course. 

ASTA. 

[Quietly.']  No,  I  didn't  meet  a  soul  I 
knew.  [Sees  the  l>iig.~]  Why,  Rita,  what  have 
you  got  tli ere  ? 

RITA. 

[Sfi/I  unpacking.']  Alfred's  travelling-bag. 
Don't  you  recognize  it? 


Little  Eyolf.  n 

ASTA. 

)   approaching   her.~]     What !     Has 
Alfred  come  home? 

RITA. 

Yes,  only  think  —  he  came  quite  unex- 
pectedly by  the  late  train  last  night. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  then  that  was  what  I  had  a  feeling  of ! 
It  was  that  that  drew  me  out  here  !  And  he 
hadn't  written  a  line  to  let  you  know?  Not 
even  a  post -card? 

RITA. 
Not  a  single  word. 

ASTA. 
Did  n't  he  even  telegraph? 

RITA. 

Yes,  an  hour  before  he  arrived  —  quite  curtly 
and  coldly.  [LaughsJ\  Don't  you  think  that 
was  like  him,  Asta? 

ASTA. 

Yes ;  he  goes  so  quietly  about  everything. 

RITA. 

But  that  made  it  all  the  more  delightful  to 
have  him  again. 

ASTA. 

Yes,  I  'm  sure  it  would. 


12  Little   Eyolf. 

RITA. 

A  whole  fortnight  before  I  expected  him  1 

ASTA. 

And  is  he  quite  well?     Not  in  low  spirits? 
RITA. 

\_Cfoses  the  bag  with  a  snap,  and  smiles  at 
her.]  He  looked  quite  transfigured  as  he 
stood  in  the  doorway. 

ASTA. 
And  was  n't  he  the  least  bit  tired  either? 

RITA. 

Oh,  yes,  he  seemed  to  be  tired  enough  — 
very  tired,  in  fact.  But,  poor  fellow,  you  see 
he  had  come  on  foot  the  greater  part  of  the 
way. 

ASTA. 

And  then  perhaps  the  high  mountain  air 
may  have  been  rather  too  keen  for  him. 

RITA. 

Oh,  no  ;  I  don't  think  so  at  all.  I  have  n't 
heard  him  cough  a  single  lime. 

ASTA. 

Ah,  there  you  see  now  !  It  wns  a  good 
thing,  after  all.  that  the  doctor  talked  him  into 
taking  this  tour. 


Little  Eyolf.  13 

RITA. 

Yes,  now  that  it 's  safely  over.  But  I  can 
tell  you  it  has  been  a  terrible  time  for  me, 
Asta.  I  've  never  cared  to  talk  about  it  —  and 
you  so  seldom  came  out  to  see  me,  too  — 

ASTA. 

Yes,  I  daresay  that  was  n't  very  nice  of  me  — 
but  — 

RITA. 

Well,  well,  well,  of  course  you  had  your 
school  to  attend  to  in  town.  \_Smiling.~]  And 
then  our  road-maker  friend  —  of  course  he  was 
away  too. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  don't  talk  like  that,  Rita. 

RITA. 

Oh,  very  well,  then ;  we  '11  leave  the  road- 
maker  out  of  the  question.  —  You  can't  think 
how  I  've  been  longing  for  Alfred  !  How 
empty  the  place  seemed  !  How  desolate  ! 
Ugh,  it  felt  as  if  there  had  been  a  funeral  in 
the  house  ! 

ASTA. 
Why,  dear  me,  only  six  or  seven  weeks  — 

RITA. 

Yes ;  but  you  must  remember  that  Alfred 
has  never  been  away  from  me  before  —  never 


14  Little  Eyolf. 

so  much  as  twenty-four  hours.     Not  once  in 
all  the  ten  years. 

ASTA. 

No ;  but  just  on  that  account  I  really  think 
it  was  high  time  he  should  have  a  little  outing 
this  year.  He  ought  to  have  gone  for  a  tramp 
in  the  mountains  every  summer  —  he  really 
ought. 

RITA. 

[Half  smiling.~]  Oh, yes,  it's  all  very  well  for 
you  to  talk.  If  I  were  as  —  as  reasonable  as 
you,  I  suppose  I  should  have  let  him  go  before 
—  perhaps.  But  I  positively  could  n't,  Asta  ! 
It  seemed  to  me  I  should  never  get  him  back 
again.  Surely  you  can  understand  that  ? 

ASTA. 

No.  But  I  daresay  that 's  because  I  have  no 
one  to  lose. 

RITA. 

[With  a  teasing  smile.']  Really?  No  one 
at  all  ? 

ASTA. 

Not  that  /  know  of.  [  Changing  the  subject^ 
But  tell  me,  Rita,  where  is  Alfred?  Is  he  still 
asleep  ? 

RITA. 

Oh,  not  at  all.  He  got  up  as  early  as  ever 
to-day. 


Little  Eyolf.  15 

ASTA. 

Then  he  can't  have  been  so  very  tired  after  all. 
RITA. 

Yes,  he  was  last  night  —  when  he  arrived. 
But  now  he  has  had  little  Eyolf  with  him  in  his 
room  for  a  whole  hour  and  more. 

ASTA. 

The  poor  little  white-faced  boy !  Has  he 
got  to  be  for  ever  at  his  lessons  again? 

RITA. 

\_With  a  slight  shrug].  Alfred  will  have  it  so, 
you  know. 

ASTA. 

Yes  ;  but  I  think  you  ought  to  put  down  your 
foot  about  it,  Rita. 

RITA. 

\_Somewhat  impatiently  J\  Oh,  no  —  come  now 
—  I  really  can't  meddle  with  that  matter.  Al- 
fred knows  so  much  better  about  these  things 
than  I  do.  And  what  would  you  have  Eyolf 
do?  He  can't  run  about  and  play,  you  see — 
like  other  children. 

ASTA. 

[  With  decision.^  I  will  talk  to  Alfred  about 
this. 

RITA. 

Yes,  do ;  I  wish  you  would  —  Oh  !  here 
he  is. 


1 6  Little   Eyolf. 

[ALFRED  ALLMERS,  dressed  in  light  summer 
clothes,  enters  by  the  door  on  the  left,  leading 
EYOLF  by  the  hand.  He  is  a  slim,  lightly- 
built  man  of  about  thirty-six  or  thirty-seven, 
with  gentle  eyes,  and  thin  brown  hair  and 
beard.  His  expression  is  serious  and 
thoughtful.  EYOLF  wears  a  dress  cut  like 
a  uniform,  with  gold  braid  and  gilt  military 
buttons.  He  is  lame,  and  walks  with  a  crutch 
under  his  left  arm.  His  leg  is  shrunken.  He 
is  undersized,  and  looks  delicate,  but  has 
beautiful  intelligent  eyes.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Drops  EYOLF'S  hand,  goes  up  to  ASTA  with 
an  expression  of  marked  pleasure,  and  holds  out 
both  his  hands  to  her."]  Asta  !  My  dearest 
Asta  !  To  think  of  your  coming  !  To  think 
of  my  seeing  you  so  soon  ! 

ASTA. 
I  felt  I  had  to.  —  Welcome  home  again  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  her  hands."]   Thank  you  for  coming. 

RITA. 
Does  n't  he  look  well  ? 

ASTA. 

[Gazes  fixedly  at  //////.]  Splendid  !  Quite 
splendid  !  His  eyes  are  so  much  brighter ! 
And  I  suppose  you  've  done  a  groat  deal  of 
writing  on  your  travels?  [With  an  outburst  of 


Little   Eyolf.  17 

foy.~\   I    shouldn't    wonder    if  the  whole    book 
were  finished,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

[Shrugging  his  shoulders.']   The  book?     Oh, 
the  book.  — 

ASTA. 

Yes,  I  was  sure  you  would  find  it  go  so  easily 
when  once  you  got  away. 

ALLMERS. 

So    I    thought    too.     But,    do    you    know,   I 
did  n't  find  it  so  at  all.     The  truth  is,  I  have  n't 
written  a  line  of  the  book. 
ASTA. 
Not  a  line? 

RITA. 

Oho  !  I  wondered  when  I  found  all  the  paper 
lying  untouched  in  your  bag. 

ASTA. 

But,  my  dear  Alfred,   what  have   you    been 
doing  all  this  time? 

ALLMERS. 

[Smiling.]   Only  thinking  and  thinking  and 
thinking. 

RITA. 

[Puffing  her  arm  round  his  neck.']   And  think- 
ing a  little,  too,  of  those  you  had  left  at  home  ? 


1 8  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  that  you  may  be  sure  of.  I  've  thought 
a  great  deal  of  you  —  every  single  day. 

RITA. 

\Taking  her  arm  away.~\  Ah,  that's  all  I 
care  about. 

ASTA. 

But  you  have  n't  even  touched  the  book  ! 
And  yet  you  can  look  so  happy  and  contented  ! 
That  's  not  what  you  generally  do  —  I  mean 
when  your  work  is  going  badly. 

ALLMERS. 

You  're  right  there.  You  see,  I  've  been  such 
a  fool  hitherto.  All  the  best  that 's  in  you  goes 
into  thinking.  What  you  put  on  paper  is  worth 
very  little. 

ASTA. 

[Exclaiming.]   Worth  very  little  ! 

RITA. 

\_Laughing.~]  Are  you  out  of  your  senses, 
Alfred  ? 

EYOLF. 

\JLooks  confidingly  up  at  him^\  Oh,  yes,  Papa, 
what  you  write  is  worth  a  great  deal  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Smiling  and  stroking  his  hair.']  Well,  well, 
since  you  say  so  —  But  I  can  tell  you,  some 
one  will  come  after  me  who  will  do  it  better. 


Little  Eyolf.  19 

EYOLF. 

Who  can  that  be  ?     Oh,  tell  me  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Only  wait — you  may  be  sure, he  '11  come  and 
let  you  hear  of  him. 

EYOLF. 

And  what  will  you  do  then? 

ALLMERS. 

\Seriously. ~\     Then  I  '11  go  to  the  mountains 
again  — 

RITA. 

Fie,  Alfred  !     For  shame  ! 

ALLMERS. 

—  up   to   the   peaks    and   the  great    waste 
places. 

EYOLF. 

Papa,    don't   you    think   I  '11    soon    be   well 
enough  for  you  to  take  me  with  you? 

ALLMERS. 

\With painful  emotion^     Oh,  yes,  perhaps, 
my  little  boy. 

EYOLF. 

It  would  be  so  splendid,  you  know,  if  I  could 
climb  the  mountains  like  you. 

ASTA. 

\_Changing  the  subject^     Why,  how  beauti- 
fully you  're  dressed  to-day,  Eyolf ! 


2O  Little   Eyolf. 

EVOLF. 

Yes,  don't  you  think  so,  Auntie? 

AST  A. 

Yes,  indeed.  Is  it  in  honor  of  Papa  that 
you  've  got  your  new  clothes  on  ? 

EYOLF. 

Yes,  I  asked  Mama  to  let  me.  I  wanted  so 
to  let  Papa  see  me  in  them. 

ALLMERS. 

[/«  a  low  voice,  to  RITA.]  You  shouldn't 
have  given  him  clothes  like  that. 

RITA. 

[/;/  a  low  rflice.~]  Oh.  he  has  teased  me  so 
long  about  them — he  had  set  his  heart  on 
them.  He  gave  me  no  peace. 

EVOLF. 

And  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  Papa  —  Borgheim 
has  bought  me  a  new  bow.  And  he  's  taught 
me  how  to  shoot  with  it  too. 

ALLMERS. 

Ah,  there  now  —  that 's  just  the  sort  of  thing 
for  you,  Eyolf. 

EYOLF. 

And  next  time  he  comes,  I  shall  ask  him  to 
teach  me  to  swim,  too. 


Little  Eyolf.  21 

ALLMERS. 

To  swim  !  Oh,  what  makes  you  want  to 
learn  swimming? 

EYOLF. 

Well,  you  know,  all  the  boys  down  at  the 
beach  can  swim.  I  'm  the  only  one  that  can't. 

ALLMERS. 

\With  emotion,  taking  him  in  his  arms.~] 
You  shall  learn  whatever  you  like  —  everything 
you  really  want  to. 

EYOLF. 

Then  do  you  know  what  I  want  most  of  all, 
Papa? 

ALLMERS. 

No  ;  tell  me  ? 

EYOLF. 

I  want  most  of  all  to  be  a  soldier. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  little  Eyolf,  there  are  many,  many  other 
things  that  are  better  than  that. 

EYOLF. 

Ah,  but  when  I  grow  big,  then  I  shall  have 
to  be  a  soldier.  You  know  that,  don't  you? 

ALLMERS. 

\Clenching  his  hands  together.~\  Well,  well, 
well :  we  shall  see  — 


22  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[Seating  herself  at  the  table  on  the  left.~\ 
Eyolf !  Come  here  to  me,  and  I  '11  tell  you 
something. 

EYOLF. 

\_Goes  up  to  her.~\     What  is  it,  Auntie? 

ASTA. 

What  do  you  think,  Eyolf.  I  have  seen  the 
Rat -Wife. 

EYOLF. 

What  !  Seen  the  Rat-Wife  !  Oh,  you  're 
only  making  a  fool  of  me  ! 

ASTA. 
No  ;  it 's  quite  true.     I  saw  her  yesterday. 

EYOLF. 
Where  did  you  see  her? 

ASTA. 

I  saw  her  on  the  road,  outside  the  town. 

ALLMERS. 

I  saw  her,  too,  somewhere  up  in  the  country. 

RITA. 

\_Whoissitting  on  the  sofa.~]  Perhaps  it'll 
be  our  turn  to  see  her  next,  Eyolf. 

EYOLF. 

Auntie,  isn't  it  strange  that  she  should  be 
called  the  Rat-Wife? 


Little  Eyolf.  23 

ASTA. 

Oh,  people  just  give  her  that  name  because 
she  wanders  round  the  country  driving  away  all 
the  rats. 

ALLMERS. 

I  've  heard  that  her  real  name  is  Varg. 

EYOLF. 
Varg  !     That  means  a  wolf,  doesn't  it? 

ALLMERS. 

[Patting  him  on  the  head.~]  So  you  know 
that,  do  you? 

EYOLF. 

[  Cautiously.]  Then  perhaps  it  may  be  true, 
after  all,  that  she  's  a  were-wolf  at  night.  Do 
you  believe  that,  Papa? 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  no ;  I  don't  believe  it.  Now  you  ought 
to  go  and  play  a  little  in  the  garden. 

EYOLF. 

Don't  you  think  I  ought  to  take  some  books 
with  me? 

ALLMERS. 

No,  no  books  after  this.  You  'd  better  go 
down  to  the  beach  to  the  other  boys. 

EYOLF. 

\_Shy  ly.~\  No,  Papa,  I  won't  go  down  to  the 
boys  to -day. 


24  Little   Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Why  not ! 

EYOLF. 

Oh,  because  I  have  these  clothes  on. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Knitting  his  bron>s.~\  Do  you  mean  that 
they  make  fun  of — of  your  pretty  clothes? 

EYOLF. 

\_Evasiveh^\  No,  they  dare  n't  —  for  then  1 
would  thrash  them. 

ALLMERS. 

Aha  !  —  then  why  ? 

EYOLF. 

"But  they  're  so  naughty,  these  boys.  And 
then  they  say  I  can  never  be  a  soldier. 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  suppressed  indignation^  Why  do  they 
say  that,  do  you  think? 

EYOLF. 

I  suppose  they  're  jealous  of  me.  For  you 
kno\v,  Papa,  they  're  so  poor,  they  have  to  go 
about  barefoot. 

ALLMERS. 

[.S>///!'.  with  choking  roicc.~\  Oh.  Rita,  how 
it,  wrings  rny  heart,  all  this. 


Little  Eyolf.  25 

RITA. 

[Soothingly,  rising. ,]   There,  there,  there  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Threateningly. ~\   But  these   boys   shall  soon 
find  out  who  's  the  master  down  at  the  beach  ! 

ASTA. 
[Listening.]  There  's  some  one  knocking. 

EYOLF. 
Oh,  I'm  sure  it 's  Borgheim  ! 

RITA. 
Come  in. 

[The  RAT-WIFE  comes  softly  and  noiselessly 
in  by  the  door  on  the  right.  She  is  a  thin 
little  shrunken  figure,  old  and  gray-haired, 
with  keen,  piercing  eyes,  dressed  in  an  old- 
fashioned  flowered  gown,  with  a  black  hood 
and  cloak.  She  has  in  her  hand  a  large  red 
umbrella,  and  carries  a  black  bag  by  a  loop 
over  her  arm.] 

EYOLF. 

[Softly,  taking  hold  of  ASTA'S  dress. .]  Auntie  ! 
Tiiat  must  surely  be  her  ! 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Courtesying  at  the  door.']  I  humbly  beg  par- 
don—  but  are  your  worships  troubled  with  any 
gnawing  things  in  the  house  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Here?     No,  I  don't  think  so. 


26  Little    Eyolf. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

For  it  would  be  such  a  pleasure  to  me  to  rid 
your  worships'  house  of  them. 

RITA. 

Yes,  yes  ;  we  understand.  But  we  're  not 
troubled  with  anything  of  the  sort  here. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

That 's  very  unlucky,  that  is ;  for  I  just  hap- 
pened to  be  on  my  rounds  now,  and  goodness 
knows  when  I  may  be  in  these  parts  again.  — 
Oh,  how  tired  I  am  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Pointing  to  a  chair.']     Yes,  you  look  tired. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

I  know  one  ought  never  to  get  tired  of  doing 
good  to  the  poor  little  things  that  are  hated  and 
persecuted  so  cruelly.  But  it  takes  your  strength 
out  of  you,  it  does. 

RITA. 

Won't  you  sit  down  and  rest  a  little  ? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

I  thank  your  ladyship  with  all  my  heart. 
[Scats  herself  on  a  chair  between  tJie  lioor  and 
the  so/a.']  I  Ye  been  out  all  night  at  my  work. 

ALLMERS. 

Have  you  indeed? 


Little   Eyolf.  27 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Yes,  over  on  the  islands.  [  With  a  chuckling 
laitgh.~\  The  people  sent  for  me,  I  can  assure 
you.  They  did  n't  like  it  a  bit ;  but  there  was 
nothing  else  to  be  done.  They  had  to  put  a 
good  face  on  it,  and  bite  the  sour  apple. 
[Looks  at  EYOLF,  and  nods.~\  The  sour  apple, 
little  master,  the  sour  apple. 

EYOLF. 

[Involuntarily,  a  little  timidly.~\  Why  had 
they  to ? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

What? 

EYOLF. 

To  bite  it  ? 

THE    RAT- WIFE. 

Why,  because  they  could  n't  keep  body  and 
soul  together  on  account  of  the  rats  and  all 
the  little  rat-children,  you  understand,  young 
master. 

RITA. 

Ugh  !  Poor  people  !  Have  they  so  many 
of  them? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Yes,  it  was  all  alive  and  swarming  with  them. 
[Laughs  with  quiet  glee.~\  They  came  creepy- 
crawly  up  into  the  beds  all  night  long.  They 
plumped  into  the  milk-cans,  and  they  went  pit- 


28  Little   Eyolf. 

tering  and  pattering  all  over  the  floor,  back- 
wards and  forwards,  and  up  and  down. 

EYOLF. 

[Soft/y,  to  ASTA.]  I  shall  never  go  there, 
Auntie. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

But  then  I  came  —  I,  and  another  with  me. 
And  we  took  them  with  us,  every  one  —  the 
sweet  little  creatures  !  We  made  an  end  of 
every  one  of  them. 

EYOLF. 
[  With  a  shriek.']      Papa  —  look  ! 

RITA. 

Good  Heavens,  Eyolf ! 

ALLMERS. 

What's  the  matter? 

EYOLF. 

[Pointing.]  There  's  something  wriggling  in 
the  bag  ! 

RITA. 

[At  the  extreme  left,  shrieks.]  Ugh  !  Send 
her  away,  Alfred  ! 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Laughing."]  Oh,  dearest  lady,  you  need  n't 
be  frightened  of  such  a  little  mannikin. 


Little   Eyolf.  29 

ALLMERS. 

But  what  is  the  thing? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Why,  it  "s  only  little  Mopseman.  [Loosening 
the  string  of  the  bag.~\  Come  up  out  of  the 
dark,  my  own  dearest  little  friend. 

[A  little  dog  with  a  broad  black  snout  pokes  its 
head  out  of  the  bag.] 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Nodding  and  beckoning  to  EYOLF.]  Come 
along,  don't  be  afraid,  my  little  wounded  war- 
rior !  He  won't  bite.  Come  here  !  Come 
here  ! 

EYOLF. 

[  Clinging  to  ASTA.]      No,  I  dare  n't. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Don't  you  think  he  has  a  gentle,  lovable 
countenance,  my  young  master? 

EYOLF. 
[Astonished,  pointing. ~\     That  thing  there  ? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Yes,  this  thing  here. 

EYOLF. 

[Almost  under  his  breath,  staring  fixedly  at 
the  dog.~\  I  think  he  has  the  horriblest  — 
countenance  I  ever  saw. 


30  Little  Eyolf. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Closing  the  bag.~\  Oh,  it'll  come  —  it'll 
come  right  enough. 

EYOLF. 

{Involuntarily  drawing  nearer,  at  last  goes 
right  up  to  her,  and  strokes  the  bag.~\  But  he  's 
lovely  —  lovely  all  the  same. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[In  a  tone  of  cautionJ\  But  now  he  's  so 
tired  and  weary,  poor  thing.  He  's  utterly  tired 
out,  he  is.  [Looks  at  ALLMERS.]  For  it  takes 
the  strength  out  of  you,  that  sort  of  game,  I  can 
tell  you,  sir. 

ALLMERS. 

What  sort  of  game  do  you  mean? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

The  luring  game. 

ALLMERS. 

Do  you  mean  that  it 's  the  dog  that  lures  the 
rats?  ' 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Nodding.~\  Mopseman  and  I  —  we  two  do 
it  together.  And  it  goes  so  smoothly  —  for  all 
you  can  see,  at  any  rate.  I  just  slip  a  string 
through  his  collar,  and  then  I  lead  him  three 
times  round  the  house,  and  play  on  my  Pan's- 
pipes.  When  they  hear  that,  they  've  got  to 


Little  Eyolf.  31 

come  up  from  the  cellars,  and  down  from  the 
garrets,  and  out  of  their  holes,  all  the  blessed 
little  creatures. 

EYOLF. 

And  does  he  bite  them  to  death'  then  ? 

THE  RAT- WIFE. 

Oh,  not  at  all !  No,  we  go  down  to  the 
boat,  he  and  I  do  —  and  then  they  follow  after 
us,  both  the  big  ones  and  the  little  ratikins. 

EYOLF. 
[Eagerly. ~\     And  what  then  —  tell  me  ! 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Then  we  push  out  from  the  land,  and  I  scull 
with  one  oar,  and  play  on  my  Pan's-pipes.  And 
Mopseman,  he  swims  behind.  [  With  glittering 
eyes.']  And  all  the  creepers  and  crawlers,  they 
follow  and  follow  us  out  into  the  deep,  deep 
waters.  Ay,  for  they  have  to  ! 

EYOLF. 
Why  have  they  to  ? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Just  because  they  want  not  to  —  because 
they  're  so  deadly  afraid  of  the  water.  That  's 
why  they  've  got  to  plunge  into  it. 

EYOLF. 
Are  they  drowned  then? 


32  Little   Eyolf. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Every  blessed  one.  [More  softly  ^\  And 
there  it 's  all  as  still,  and  soft,  and  dark  as 
their  hearts  can  desire,  the  lovely  little  things. 
Down  there  they  sleep  a  long,  sweet  sleep,  all 
they  whom  the  people  above  hate  so  and  per- 
secute. [Rises  J\  In  the  old  days,  I  can  tell 
you,  I  did  n't  need  any  Mopseman.  Then  I 
did  the  luring  myself —  I  alone. 

EYOLF. 
And  what  did  you  lure  then? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Men.     One  most  of  all. 

EYOLF. 

[  With  eagerness. .]  Oh,  who  was  that  one  ? 
Tell  me  ! 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Laughing."}  It  was  my  own  sweetheart,  it 
was,  little  heart-breaker  ! 

EYOLF. 

And  where  is  he  now,  then  ? 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

[Harshly.']  Down  where  all  the  rats  are. 
[Resuming  her  milder  fone.~\  Hut  now  I  must 
be  off  and  get  to  business  again.  Always  on 
the  move.  [To  RITA.]  So  your  ladyship  has 


Little   Eyolf.  33 

no  sort  of  use  for  me  to-day?     I  could  finish 
it  all  off  while  I  'm  about  it. 

RITA. 

No,  thank  you ;  I  don't  think  we  require 
anything. 

THE    RAT-WIFE. 

Well,  well,  your  sweet  ladyship,  you  can 
never  tell.  —  If  your  ladyship  should  find  that 
there  's  anything  here  that  keeps  nibbling  and 
gnawing,  and  creeping  and  crawling,  then  just 
see  and  get  hold  of  me  and  Mopseman.  Good- 
by,  good-by,  a  kind  good-by  to  you  all. 
[She  goes  out  by  the  door  on  the  right.] 

EYOLF. 

\_Softly  and  triumphantly,  to  ASTA.]  Only 
think,  Auntie,  now  I  have  seen  the  Rat-Wife 
too  ! 

[RiTA  goes  out  upon  the  veranda,  and  fans  her- 
self with  her  pocket-handkerchief.  Shortly 
afterwards,  EYOLF  slips  cautiously  and  un- 
noticed out  to  the  right.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Takes  up  the  portfolio  from  the  table  by  the 
sofa.'}  Is  this  your  portfolio,  Asta? 

ASTA. 
Yes.     I  have  some  of  the  old  letters  in  it. 

ALLMERS. 

Ah,  the  family  letters  — 
3 


34  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

You  know  you  asked  me  to  arrange  them  for 
you  while  you  were  away. 

ALLMERS. 

[Pats  her  on  the  head.]  And  you  've  actually 
found  time  to  do  that,  dear? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes.  I  Ve  done  it  partly  out  here  and 
partly  at  my  own  rooms  in  town. 

ALLMERS. 

Thanks,  dear.  Did  you  find  anything  par- 
ticular in  them? 

ASTA. 

\_Ligh//y.~\      Oh,   you   know  you    always   find 
something  or  other  in  such  old  papers.      [Speak- 
ing lower  and  seriously.'}      It  's   the   letters  to 
mother  that  are  in  this  portfolio. 
ALLMERS. 

Those,  of  course,  you  must  keep  yourself. 
ASTA. 

[  With  an  effort^}  No ;  I  'm  determined 
that  you  shall  look  through  them,  too,  Alfred. 
Some  time  —  later  on  in  life.  But  to-day  I 
have  n't  got  the  key  of  the  portfolio  with  me. 

ALLMERS. 

It  does  n't  matter,  my  dear  Asta,  for  I  shall 
never  read  your  mother's  letters  in  any  case. 


Little  Eyolf.  35 

ASTA. 

[Fixing  her  eyes  on  him.']  Then  some  time 
or  other  —  some  quiet  evening  —  I  will  tell 
you  something  of  what  is  in  them. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  that  will  be  much  better.  But  do  you 
keep  your  mother's  letters  —  you  have  n't  so 
many  mementos  of  her? 

He  hands  ASTA  the  portfolio.  She  takes  it, 
lays  it  on  the  chair  under  her  outdoor  things. 
RITA  comes  into  the  room  again. 

RITA. 

Ugh  !  I  feel  as  if  that  horrible  old  woman 
had  brought  a  sort  of  graveyard  smell  with  her. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  she  was  rather  horrible. 

RITA. 

I  felt  almost  sick  while  she  was  in  the  room. 

ALLMERS. 

However,  I  can  very  well  understand  the 
sort  of  spellbound  fascination  that  she  talked 
about.  The  loneliness  of  the  mountain  peaks 
and  of  the  great  waste  places  has  something  of 
the  same  magic  about  it. 

ASTA. 

[Looks  attentively  at  him.']  Wh;it  is  it  that 
has  happened  to  you,  Alfred? 


36  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Smi/ing."]     To  me  ? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  something  has  happened  —  something 
seems  almost  to  have  transformed  you.  Rita 
noticed  it  too. 

RITA. 

Yes,  I  saw  it  the  moment  you  came.  A 
change  for  the  better,  I  hope,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

It  ought  to  be  for  the  better.  And  it  must 
and  shall  come  to  good. 

RITA. 

[  With  an  outburst]  You  have  had  some 
adventure  on  your  journey  !  Don't  deny  it ! 
I  can  see  it  in  your  face  ! 

ALLMERS. 

'[Shaking  his  head]  No  adventure  in  the 
world — outwardly,  nothing.  But  — 

RITA. 
[Eagerly.]   Rut—? 

ALLMERS. 

It 's  true  that  within  me  there  has  been  some- 
thing of  a  revolution. 

RITA. 
Oh,  Heavens  —  ! 


Little  Eyolf.  37 

ALLMERS. 

[Soothingly,  patting  her  hand.~\  Only  for  the 
better,  my  dear  Rita.  That  you  may  be  per- 
fectly certain  of. 

RITA. 

[Scats  herself  on  the  so/a.']  You  must  tell  us 
all  about  it,  at  once  —  tell  us  everything  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Turning  to  ASTA.]  Yes,  let  us  sit  down,  too, 
Asta.  Then  I  will  try  to  tell  you  as  well  as  I 
can. 

[He  seats  himself  on  the  sofa  at  RITA'S  side. 
ASTA  moves  a  chair  forward,  and  places  her- 
self near  him.] 

RITA. 

[Looking  at  him  expectantly. ~\   Well  — ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Gazing  straight  before  him.~]  When  I  look 
back  over  my  life  —  and  my  fortunes  —  for  the 
last  ten  or  eleven  years,  it  seems  to  me  almost 
like  a  fairy-tale  or  a  dream.  Don't  you  think 
so  too,  Asta? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  in  many  ways  I  think  so. 

ALLMERS. 

[Continuing.^  When  I  remember  what  we 
two  used  to  be,  Asta  —  we  too  poor  orphan 
children  — 


3  8  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 

\_Impa tiently.~\    Oh,  that 's  such  an  old,  old 
story. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Not  listening  to  her.~]  And  now  here  I  am 
in  comfort  and  luxury.  And  I  Ye  been  able  to 
follow  my  vocation.  I  Ve  been  able  to  work 
and  study  —  to  follow  out  my  heart's  desire. 
\JIolds  out  his  ha  ml,  ~\  And  all  this  great  — 
this  fabulous  good  fortune  we  owe  to  you,  my 
dearest  Rita. 

RITA. 

\_Half  playfully  >  half  angrily,  slaps  his  hand.] 
Oh,  I  do  wish  you  would  stop  talking  like  that. 

ALLMERS. 

I  speak  of  it  only  as  a  sort  of  introduction. 

RITA. 

Then  do  skip  that  introduction  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Rita,  you  must  n't  think  it  was  the  doctor's 
advice  that  drove  me  up  to  the  mountains. 

ASTA. 
Was  n't  it,  Alfred  ? 

RITA. 

What  was  it,  then,  that  drove  you  ? 

ALLMERS. 

It  was  this :     I    found    t  he  re    was    no    more 
peace  for  me,  there  in  my  study. 


Little  Eyolf.  39 

RITA. 

No  peace  !     Why,  who  disturbed  you? 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  his  head.~\  No  one,  from  without. 
But  I  felt  as  though  I  were  positively  abusing  — 
or,  say,  rather  wasting,  my  best  powers  —  frit- 
tering away  the  time. 

ASTA. 

[  With  wide  eyes.~]  When  you  were  writing 
at  your  book? 

ALLMERS. 

[Nodding.~\  For  I  can't  think  that  my  powers 
are  confined  to  that  alone.  I  must  surely  have 
it  in  me  to  do  one  or  two  other  things  as  well. 

RITA. 
Was  that  what  you  sat  there  brooding  over? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  mainly  that. 

RITA. 

And  so  that 's  what  has  made  you  so  discon- 
tented with  yourself  of  late ;  and  with  the  rest 
of  us  as  well.  For  you  know  you  were  discon- 
tented, Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

[Gazing  straight  before  /iim.~]  There  I  sat 
bent  over  my  table,  writing  day  after  day,  and 
often  half  the  night  too  —  writing  and  writing 


4O  Little  Eyolf. 

at  the  great  thick  book  on  "  Human  Responsi- 
bility."    Hm  ! 

ASTA. 

[Laying  her  hand  upon  his  armJ]  But, 
Alfred  —  that  book  is  to  be  your  life-work. 

RITA. 
Yes,  you  Ve  said  so  often  enough. 

ALLMERS. 

I  thought  so.  Ever  since  I  grew  up,  I  have 
thought  so.  [  With  an  affectionate  expression  in 
his  eyes.']  And  it  was  you  that  enabled  me  to 
devote  myself  to  it,  my  dear  Rita 

RITA. 
Oh,  nonsense. 

ALLMERS. 

[Smiling  to  her.~\  —  you  with  your  gold,  and 

your  green  forests 

RITA. 

[Half  laughing,  half  rexed.~\  If  you  begin 
all  that  rubbish  again,  I  shall  beat  you. 

ASTA. 

[Looking  sorrowfully  at  him.~\  But  the 
book,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

It  began,  as  it  were,  to  drift  away  from  me. 
But  I  was  more  and  more  beset  by  the  thought 
of  the  higher  duties  that  laid  their  claims  upon 
me. 


Little  Eyolf.  41 

RITA. 

\Beaming,  seizes  his  hand.']     Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

The  thought  of  Eyolf,  my  dear  Rita. 

RITA. 

[Disappointed,  drops  his  hand.~]  Ah  —  of 
Eyolf ! 

ALLMERS. 

Poor  little  Eyolf  has  taken  deeper  and  deeper 
hold  of  me.  After  that  unlucky  fall  from  the 
table  —  and  especially  since  we  have  been 
assured  that  the  injury  is  incurable 

RITA. 

\_Insis  tently.~\  But  you  take  all  the  care  you 
possibly  can  of  him,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

As  a  schoolmaster,  yes  ;  but  not  as  a  father. 
And  it  is  a  father  that  I  want  henceforth  to  be 
to  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

[Looking  at  him  and  shaking  her  head.~\  I 
don't  think  I  rightly  understand  you. 

ALLMERS. 

I  mean  that  I  will  try  with  all  my  might  to 
make  his  misfortune  as  painless  and  easy  to 
him  as  it  can  possibly  be. 


42  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

Oh,    but,    dear  —  thank    Heaven,     I    don't 
think  he  feels  it  so  deeply. 

ASTA. 
[  With  emotion.~\     Yes,  Rita,  he  does. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  you  may  be  sure  he  feels  it  deeply. 

RITA. 

[Impatiently. .]      But,  Alfred,  what  more  can 
you  do  for  him? 

ALLMERS. 

I  will  try  to  perfect  all  the  rich  possibilities 
that  are  dawning  in  his  childish  soul.  I  will 
foster  all  the  noble  germs  in  his  nature  — 
make  them  blossom  and  bear  fruit.  \}\'ith 
more  and  more  warmth,  rising.~\  And  I  will 
do  more  than  that  !  I  will  help  him  to  bring 
his  desires  into  harmony  with  what  lies  attain- 
able before  him.  That  is  just  what  at  present 
they  are  not.  All  his  longings  are  for  things 
that  must  remain  unattainable  to  him  all  his 
life  long.  But  I  will  create  a  conscious  happi- 
ness in  his  mind. 

[He  goes  once  or  twice  up  and  down  the 
room.  ASIA  and  RITA  follow  him  with  their 
eyes.] 


Little  Eyolf.  43 

RITA. 

You  should  take  these  things  more  quietly, 
Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Stops  beside  the  table  on  the  left,  and  looks  at 
thetn.~]  Eyolf  shall  carry  on  my  life-work  — 
if  he  wants  to.  Or  he  shall  choose  one  that 
is  altogether  his  own.  Perhaps  that  would  be 
best.  Well,  at  all  events,  I  shall  let  mine  rest 
as  it  is. 

RITA. 

\_Rising.~]  But,  Alfred  dear,  can't  you  work 
both  for  yourself  and  for  Eyolf? 

ALLMERS. 

No,  I  cannot.  It 's  impossible !  I  can't 
divide  myself  in  this  matter,  and  therefore  I 
efface  myself.  Eyolf  shall  be  the  complete 
man  of  our  race.  And  it  shall  be  my  new  life- 
work  to  make  him  the  complete  man. 

ASTA. 

\_Has  risen  and  now  goes  up  to  him.~\  This 
must  have  cost  you  a  terribly  hard  struggle, 
Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  it  has.  At  home  here,  I  should  never 
have  conquered  myself,  never  brought  myself  to 
the  point  of  renunciation.  Never  at  home  ! 


44  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 

Then  that  was  why  you  went  away  this 
summer? 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  shitting  eyes.']  Yes  !  I  went  up  into 
the  infinite  solitudes.  I  saw  the  sunrise  gleam- 
ing on  the  mountain  peaks.  I  felt  myself  nearer 
the  stars  —  I  seemed  almost  to  be  in  sympathy 
and  communion  with  them.  And  then  I  found 
the  strength  for  it. 

ASTA. 

[Looking  sadly  at  him.~\  But  you  will  never 
write  any  more  of  your  book  on  "  Human  Re- 
sponsibility "  ? 

ALLMERS. 

No,  never,  Asta.  I  tell  you  I  can't  split 
myself  up  between  two  vocations.  But  I  will 
act  out  my  "  human  responsibility  "  —  in  my 
own  life. 

RITA. 

[  With  a  smile.']  Do  you  think  you  can  live 
up  to  such  high  resolves  at  home  here? 

ALLMERS. 

[Taking  her  ham/.']  With  you  to  help  me,  I 
can.  [Holds  out  the  other  hand.~\  And  with 
you  too,  Asta. 


Little  Eyolf.  45 

RITA. 

[Drawing  her  hand  away.~]  With  both  of  us, 
then  !  So,  after  all,  you  can  divide  yourself. 

ALLMERS. 

Why,  my  dearest  Rita  —  ! 

[RiTA  moves  away  from  him  and  stands  in  the 
garden  doorway.  A  light  and  rapid  knock 
is  heard  at  the  door  on  the  right.  Engineer 
BORGHEIM  enters  quickly.  lie  is  a  young 
man  of  a  little  over  thirty.  His  expression 
is  bright  and  cheerful,  and  he  holds  himself 
erect.] 

BORGHEIM. 

Good-morning,  Mrs.  Allmers.  [Stops  with 
an  expression  of  pleasure  on  seeing  ALLMERS.  J 
Why,  what's  this?  Home  again  already,  Mr. 
Allmers  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  hands  with  him.~\  Yes,  I  arrived 
last  night. 

RITA. 

\_Gayly.~]   His  leave  was  up,  Mr.  Borgheim. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  you  know  it  was  n't,  Rita  — 

RITA. 

[Approaching.']  Oh,  yes,  but  it  was,  though. 
His  furlough  had  run  out. 


46  Little  Eyolf. 

BORGHEIM. 

I  see  you  hold  your  husband  well  in  hand, 
Mrs.  Allmers. 

RITA. 

I  hold  to  my  rights.  And  besides,  every- 
thing must  have  an  end. 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  not  everything  —  I  hope.  —  Good-morn- 
ing, Miss  Allmers  ! 

AST  A. 

\_Holding  aloof  from  him.~\     Good-morning. 

RITA. 

[Looking  at  BORGHEIM.]  Not  everything, 
you  say? 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  I  'in  firmly  convinced  that  there  are 
some  things  in  the  world  that  will  never  come 
to  an  end. 

RITA. 

I  suppose  you  're  thinking  of  love,  and  that 
sort  of  thing. 

P.OKGHEIM. 

[Warmly  ^  I'm  thinking  of  all  that  is 
lovely  ! 

RITA. 

And  that  never  comes  to  an  end.  Yes,  let 
us  think  of  that,  hope  for  that,  all  of  us. 


Little  Eyolf.  47 

ALLMERS. 

[Coming  up  to  themJ\  I  suppose  you'll 
soon  have  finished  your  road-work  out  here  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

I  Ve  finished  it  already  —  finished  it  yester- 
day. It  has  been  a  long  business,  but,  thank 
Heaven,  that  has  come  to  an  end. 

RITA. 
And  you  are  beaming  with  joy  over  that? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes,  I  am  indeed  ! 

RITA. 

Well,  I  must  say  — 

BORGHEIM. 

What,  Mrs.  Allmers? 

RITA. 

I  don't  think  it 's  particularly  nice  of  you, 
Mr.  Borgheim. 

BORGHEIM. 

Indeed?     Why  not? 

RITA. 

Well,  I  suppose  we  sha'n't  often  see  you  in 
these  parts  after  this. 

BORGHEIM. 

No,  that 's  true.     I  had  n't  thought  of  that. 


48  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

Oh,  well,  I  suppose  you  '11  be  able  to  look  in 
upon  us  now  and  then  all  the  same. 

BORGHEIM. 

No,  unfortunately  that  will  be  out  of  my 
power  for  a  very  long  time. 

ALLMERS. 

Indeed?     How  so? 

BORGHEIM. 

The  fact  is,  I  Ve  got  a  big  piece  of  new  work 
that  I  must  set  about  at  once. 

ALLMERS. 

Have  you  indeed? —  [Pressing  his  han(?.~\  — 
I  'm  heartily  glad  to  hear  it. 

RITA. 
I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Borgheim. 

BORGHEIM. 

Hush,  hush  —  I  really  ought  n't  to  talk 
openly  of  it  as  yet !  But  I  can't  help  coming 
out  with  it  !  It 's  a  great  piece  of  road-making 

—  up  in  the  north  —  with  mountain  ranges  to 
cross,  and  the  most  tremendous  difficulties  to 
overcome  !  —  [  With  an  outburst  of  gladness. ~] 

—  Oh,    what    a  glorious    world     this     is  —  and 
what  a  joy  it  is  to  be  a  road- maker  in  it  ! 


Little  Eyolf.  49 

RITA. 

[Smiling  and  looking  teasingfy  at  him.~\  Is 
it  road-making  business  that  has  brought  you 
out  here  to-day  in  such  wild  spirits? 

BORGHEIM. 

No,  not  that  alone.  I  'm  thinking  of  all  the 
bright  and  hopeful  prospects  that  are  opening 
out  before  me. 

RITA. 

Aha,  then  perhaps  you  Ve  got  something 
still  more  exquisite  in  reserve  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

[Glancing  towards  ASTA.]  Who  knows ! 
When  once  happiness  comes  to  us,  it 's  apt  to 
come  like  a  spring  flood.  \_Turns  to  ASTA.] 
Miss  Allmers,  would  n't  you  like  to  take  a  little 
walk  with  me  ?  As  we  used  to  ? 

ASTA. 

[  Quickly, ,]  No  —  no,  thank  you.  Not  now. 
Not  to-day. 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  do  come  !  Only  a  little  bit  of  a  walk  ! 
I  have  so  much  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about 
before  I  go. 

RITA. 

Something  else,  perhaps,  that  you    must  n't 
talk  openly  about  as  yet? 
4 


50  Little  Eyolf. 

BORGHEIM. 

Hm,  that  depends 

RITA. 

But  there  's  nothing  to  prevent  your  whisper- 
ing, you  know.  \Half  aside^\  Asta,  you  must 
really  go  with  him. 

ASTA. 
But,  my  dear  Rita 

BORGHEIM. 

[Imploringly. ~\  Miss  Asta  —  remember  it  is 
to  be  a  farewell  walk  —  the  last  for  many  a 
day. 

ASTA. 

[Takes  her  hat  and  parasol.~\  Very  well, 
suppose  we  take  a  stroll  in  the  garden  then. 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you  ! 

ALLMERS. 

And  while  you  're  there  you  can  see  what 
Eyolf 's  doing. 

BORGHEIM. 

Ah,  Eyolf,  by  the  bye  !  Where  is  Eyolf  to- 
day? I  Ve  got  something  for  him. 

ALLMERS. 

He  's  out  playing  somewhere. 


Little  Eyolf. 


BORGHEIM. 

Is  he  really  !  Then  he  has  begun  to  play 
now?  He  used  always  to  be  sitting  indoors 
over  his  books. 

ALLMERS. 

There 's  to  be  an  end  of  that  now.  I  'm 
going  to  make  a  regular  open-air  boy  of  him. 

BORGHEIM. 

Ah,  now,  that 's  right  !  Out  into  the  open 
air  with  him,  poor  little  fellow  !  Good  Lord, 
what  can  we  possibly  do  better  than  play  in 
this  blessed  world  ?  For  my  part,  I  think  all 
life  is  one  long  playtime  !  —  Come,  Miss  Asta  ! 

[BORGHEIM  and  ASTA  go  out  on  the  veranda 
and  down  through  the  garden.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Stands  looking  after  them.']  Rita  —  do  you 
think  there  's  anything  between  those  two? 

RITA. 

I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  used  to  think 
there  was.  But  Asta  has  grown  so  strange  to 
me  —  so  utterly  incomprehensible  of  late. 

ALLMERS. 

Indeed  !     Has  she?     While  I  Ve  been  away? 

RITA. 
Yes,  within  the  last  week  or  two. 


52  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

And  you  think  she  does  n't  care  very  much 
about  him  now? 

RITA. 

Not  seriously  ;  not  utterly  and  entirely ;  not 
unreservedly  —  I  am  sure  she  does  n't.  \_Looks 
searchingly  at  him.']  Would  it  displease  you  if 
she  did? 

ALLMERS. 

It  would  n't  exactly  displease  me.  But  it 
would  certainly  be  a  disquieting  thought  — 

RITA. 

Disquieting? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes ;  you  must  remember  that  I  'm  respon- 
sible for  Asta  —  for  her  life's  happiness. 

RITA. 

Oh,  come  —  responsible  !  Surely  Asta  has 
come  to  years  of  discretion?  I  should  say  she 
was  capable  of  choosing  for  herself. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  we  must  hope  so,  Rita. 

RITA. 

For  my  part,  I  don't  think  at  all  ill  of 
Borgheim. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  dear  —  no  more  do  I  —  quite  the  con 
trary.     But  all  the  same  — 


Little   Eyolf.  53 

RITA. 

[Continuing.']  And  I  should  be  very  glad 
indeed  if  he  and  Asta  were  to  make  a  match 
of  it. 

ALLMERS. 

[Annoyed. ~\     Oh,  why  should  you  be  ? 

RITA. 

[  With  increasing  excitement.~\  Why,  for  then 
she  would  have  to  go  far,  far  away  with  him  ! 
And  she  could  never  come  out  here  to  us,  as 
she  does  now. 

ALLMERS. 

[Stares  at  her  in  astonishment^  What  ! 
Can  you  really  want  to  get  rid  of  Asta  ? 

RITA. 
Yes,  yes,  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Why  in  all  the  world  —  ? 
RITA. 

[Throwing  her  arms  passionately  round  his 
neck.~]  For  then,  at  last,  I  should  have  you  to 
myself  alone  !  And  yet  —  not  even  then  ! 
Not  wholly  to  myself !  [Bursts  into  convulsive 
weeping.~\  Oh,  Alfred,  Alfred  —  I  cannot  give 
you  up  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Gently  releasing  himself J\  My  dearest 
Rita,  do  be  reasonable  ! 


54  Little   Eyolf. 

RITA. 

I  don't  care  a  bit  about  being  reasonable  ! 
I  care  only  for  you  !  Only  for  you  in  all  the 
world  !  [Again  throwing  her  arms  round  his 
ncck.~\  For  you,  for  you,  for  you  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Let  me  go,  let  me  go  —  you  're  strangling 
me  ! 

RITA. 

[Letting  him  go.~\  How  I  wish  I  could  ! 
[Looking  at  him  with  flashing  eycs.~\  Oh,  if 
you  knew  how  I  have  hated  you  —  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Hated  me  —  ! 

RITA. 

Yes,  when  you  shut  yourself  up  in  your  room 
and  brooded  over  your  work  —  till  long,  long 
into  the  night.  [Plaintively.^  So  long,  so 
late,  Alfred.  Oh,  how  I  hated  your  work  ! 

ALLMERS. 

But  now  I  have  done  with  that. 

RITA. 

[With  a  cutting  laugh.'}  Oh,  yes!  Now 
you  're  taken  up  with  something  worse? 

ALLMERS. 

[Shocked."]  \Yorse  !  Do  you  call  our  child 
something  worse? 


Little   Eyolf.  55 

RITA. 

\_Vehemen //)'.]  Yes,  I  do.  As  he  comes 
between  you  and  me,  I  call  him  so.  For  the 
book  —  the  book  was  dead,  but  the  child  is  a 
living  being.  [  With  increasing  iinpetuosity.~\ 
But  I  won't  endure  it,  Alfred  !  I  won't  endure 
it  —  I  tell  you  so  plainly  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Looks  steadily  at  her,  and  says  in  a  low 
voice, .]  I  am  often  almost  afraid  of  you,  Rita. 

RITA. 

[Gloomily.']  I  am  often  afraid  of  myself. 
And  for  that  very  reason  you  mustn't  awa^e 
the  evil  in  me. 

ALLMERS. 

Why,  good  Heavens,  do  I  do  that? 

RITA. 

Yes,  you  do — when  you  tear  to  shreds  the 
holiest  bonds  between  us. 

ALLMERS. 

\Urgently  ^\  Think  what  you're  saying, 
Rita.  It  is  your  own  child  —  our  only  child, 
that  you  are  speaking  of. 

RITA. 

The  child  is  only  half  mine.  [  With  another 
oittburstJ\  But  you  shall  be  mine  alone  !  You 


56  Little   Eyolf. 

shall  be  wholly  mine  !     That  I  have  a  right  to 
demand  of  you  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Shrugging  his  shoulders.'}  Oh,  my  dear 
Rita,  it 's  of  no  use  demanding  anything. 
Everything  must  be  freely  given. 

RITA. 

[Looks  anxiously  at  him.~\  And  that  you 
cannot  do  henceforth? 

ALLMERS. 

No,  I  cannot.  I  must  divide  myself  between 
Eyolf  and  you. 

RITA. 

But  if  Eyolf  had  never  been  born?  What 
then? 

ALLMERS. 

[Evasively."]  Oh,  that  would  be  another 
matter.  Then  I  'd  have  only  you  to  care  for. 

RITA. 

[Softly,  her  voice  guwering.~]  Then  I  wish 
he  had  never  been  born. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Flax/ling  flitt.~\  Rita  !  You  don't  know 
what  you  're  saying  ! 

RITA. 

[Trembling  unth  emotion.'}  It  was  in  pain 
unspeakable  that  I  brought  him  into  the  world. 


Little  Eyol£  57 

But  I  bore  it  all  with  joy  and  rapture  for  your 
sake. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Warmly, ,]     Oh,  yes,  I  know,  I  know. 

RITA. 

\With  decision.^  But  there  it  must  end. 
I  will  live  my  life  —  together  with  you — wholly 
with  you.  I  cannot  go  on  being  only  Eyolfs 
mother  —  only  his  mother  and  nothing  more. 
I  will  not,  I  tell  you  !  I  cannot !  I  will  be 
all  in  all  to  you  !  To  you,  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

But  that 's  just  what  you  are,  Rita.  Through 
our  child  — 

RITA. 

Oh  —  vapid,  nauseous  phrases  —  nothing  else. 
No,  Alfred,  I  'm  not  to  be  put  off  like  that.  I 
was  fitted  to  become  the  child's  mother,  but  not 
to  be  a  mother  to  him.  You  must  take  me  as 
I  am,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

And  yet  you  used  to  be  so  fond  of  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

I  was  so  sorry  for  him  —  because  you  troubled 
yourself  so  little  about  him.  You  kept  him 
reading  and  grinding  at  books.  You  scarcely 
ever  saw  him. 


58  Little   Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 

{Nodding  slowly  ^\  No  ;  I  was  blind.  The 
time  had  not  yet  come  for  me  — 

RITA. 

[Looking  in  his  facc.~\  But  now,  I  suppose, 
it  has  come  ? 

ALL.MERS. 

Yes,  at  last.  Now  I  see  that  the  highest  task 
I  can  have  in  the  world  is  to  be  a  true  father  to 
Eyolf. 

RITA. 

And  to  me  ?  —  what  will  you  be  to  me  ? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Gentfy, ~\  I  will  always  go  on  caring  for 
you  —  with  quiet  tenderness.  \_He  tries  to  take 
her  hands  ^ 

RITA. 

[Avoiding  him.']  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  your 
quiet  tenderness.  I  want  you  utterly  and  en- 
tirely—  and  alone!  Just  as  I  had  you  in  the 
first,  rich,  beautiful  days.  [  /  'chcniciitly  ami 
harshly  ^\  Never  in  this  world  will  I  consent  to 
be  put  off  with  scraps  and  leavings,  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Conciliatorih ^\  I  should  have  thought  there 
was  happiness  in  plenty  for  all  three  of  us,  Rita. 


Little  Eyolf.  59 

RITA. 

[Scornfully. ~\  Then  you  're  easily  contented. 
[Seats  herself  at  the  table  on  the  left.]  Now  listen 
to  me. 

ALLMERS. 

[Approaching.]  Well,  what  is  it? 

RITA 

[Looking  up  at  him  with  a  veiled  glow  in  her 
eyes.']  When  I  got  your  telegram  yesterday 
evening  — 

ALLMERS. 

Yes?     What  then? 

RITA. 

—  then  I  dressed  myself  in  white  — 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  I  noticed  you  were  in  white  when  I 
arrived. 

RITA. 

I  had  let  down  my  hair  — 

ALLMERS. 

Your  sweet  masses  of  hair  — 

RITA. 

—  so  that  it  flowed  down  my  neck  and 
shoulders  — 

ALLMERS. 

I  saw  it,  I  saw  it.  Oh,  how  lovely  you  were, 
Rita! 


60  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

There  were  rose-tinted  shades  over  both  the 
lamps.  And  we  were  alone,  we  two  —  the  only 
waking  beings  in  the  whole  house.  And  there 
was  champagne  on  the  table. 

ALLMERS. 

I  did  n't  drink  any  of  it. 

RITA. 

[Looking  bitterly  at  him."}  No,  that 's  true. 
[Laughs  harshfy.~\  "  There  stood  the  cham- 
pagne, but  you  tasted  it  not  "  —  as  the  poet 
says. 

[She  rises  from  the  armchair,  goes  with  an 
air  of  weariness  over  to  the  sofa,  and  seats 
herself,  half  reclining  upon  it.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Crosses  the  room  and  stands  before  her."}  I 
was  so  taken  up  with  serious  thoughts.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  talk  to  you  of  our  future, 
Rita  —  and  first  and  foremost  of  Eyolf. 

RITA. 
[Smiling."}   And  so  you  did  — 

ALLMERS. 

No,   I   had  n't   time   to  —  for  you  began 
undress. 

RITA. 
Yes,  and  meanwhile  you  talked  about  Eyolf. 


Little   Eyolf.  61 

Don't  you  remember?     You  wanted  to  know 
all  about  little  Eyolfs  digestion. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  reproachfully  at  her.~\   Rita  ! 

RITA. 

And  then  you  got  into  your  bed,  and  slept 
like  a  log. 

ALLMERS. 

{Shaking  his  head.~]  Rita  —  Rita  ! 

RITA. 

[Lying  at  full  length  and  looking  up  at  himJ\ 
Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes? 

RITA. 

"There    stood    your    champagne,    but    you 
tasted  it  not." 

ALLMERS. 

[Almost  harshly. ,]      No.     I  did  not  taste  it. 
[He  goes  away  from  her  and  stands  in    the 
garden  doorway.     RITA  lies  for  some  time 
motionless,  with  closed  eyes.] 

RITA. 

[Suddenly  springing  up.~\     But  let  me  tell  you 
one  thing,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

\Turningin  the  doorway  J\     Well? 


62  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

You  should  n't  feel  quite  so  secure  as  you  do  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Not  secure? 

RITA. 

No,  you  shouldn't  be  so  indifferent !  Not  so 
certain  of  your  property  in  me  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Drawing  nearer.']  What  do  you  mean  by 
that? 

RITA. 

\_With  trembling  ///^~.]  Never  in  a  single 
thought  have  I  been  untrue  to  you,  Alfred  ! 
Never  for  an  instant. 

ALLMF.RS. 

No,  Rita,  I  know  that  —  I,  who  know  you  so 
well. 

RITA. 

[  With  sparkling  cycsj\  But  if  you  disdain 
me  —  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Disdain  !  I  don't  understand  what  you 
mean  ! 

RITA. 

Oh,  you  don't  know  all  that  might  rise  up 
within  me,  if — 

ALLMERS. 

If? 


Little  Eyolf.  63 

RITA. 

If  I  should  ever  see  that  you  did  n't  care  for 
me  —  that  you  did  n't  love  me  as  before. 

ALLMERS. 

But,  my  dearest  Rita,  years  bring  a  certain 
change  with  them  —  and  that  must  one  day 
occur  even  in  us  —  as  in  every  one  else. 

RITA. 

Never  in  me  !  And  I  will  not  hear  of  any 
change  in  you  either  —  I  could  not  bear  it, 
Alfred,  I  want  to  keep  you  to  myself  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  at  her  with  concern^  You  have  a 
terribly  jealous  nature 

RITA. 

I  can't  make  myself  different  from  what  I 
am.  \_Threateningly. ~\  If  you  go  and  divide 
yourself  between  me  and  any  one  else 

ALLMERS. 


RITA. 

Then  I  '11  take  my  revenge  on  you,  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

How  "  take  your  revenge  "  ? 


64  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

I    don't   know  how. —  Oh,  yes,  I  know  well 

enough  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Well? 

RITA. 

I  '11  go  and  throw  myself  away 

ALLMERS. 

Throw  yourself  away,  do  you  say  ! 

RITA. 

Yes,  that  I  will.  I  '11  throw  myself  straight 
into  the  arms  of — of  the  first  man  that  comes 
in  my  way ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  tenderly   at  her   and  shaking   his 
head.~\       That    you  '11    never    do  —  my    loyal, 
proud,    true-hearted    Rita  ! 
RITA. 

[Putting  her  arms  round  his  neck.']     Oh,  you 
don't  know  what  I  might  come  to  be  if  you  — 
if  you  did  n't  love  me  any  more. 

ALLMERS. 

Didn't  love  you,  Rita?  Oh,  how  can  you 
say  such  a  thing  ! 

RITA. 

\_HaIf  laughing,  lets  him  go."]  Why  should  n't 
I  spread  my  nets  for  that  —  that  road-maker 
man  that  hangs  about  here? 


Little   Eyolf.  65 

ALLMERS. 

[Relieved. ~\  Oh,  thank  goodness  —  you  're 
only  joking. 

RITA. 

Not  at  all.  He  would  do  as  well  as  any  one 
else. 

ALLMERS. 

Ah,  but  I  suspect  he  's  more  or  less  taken 
up  already. 

RITA. 

So  much  the  better !  For  then  I  should 
take  him  away  from  some  one  else  ;  and  that 's 
just  what  Eyolf  has  done  to  me. 

ALLMERS. 

Can  you  say  that  our  little  Eyolf  has  done 
that  ? 

RITA. 

[Pointing  with  her  forefinger.^  There,  you 
see  !  You  see !  The  moment  you  mention 
Eyolf's  name,  you  grow  tender  and  your  voice 
quivers!  [Threateningly,  clenching  her  hands. ~\ 
Oh,  you  almost  tempt  me  to  wish 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  at  her  anxiously.']  What  do  I 
tempt  you  to  wish,  Rita? 

RITA. 

[Vehemently,  going  away  from   him.~\      No, 
no,  no  —  I  won't  tell  you  that  !     Never  ! 
5 


66  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Drawing  nearer  to  her.']  Rita  !  I  implore 
you  —  for  my  sake  and  for  your  own  —  don't 
let  yourself  be  tempted  into  evil. 

[BORGHEIM  and  ASTA  come  up  from  the  gar 
den.  They  both  show  signs  of  restrained 
emotion.  They  look  serious  and  dejected, 
ASTA  remains  out  on  the  veranda.  BOR- 
GHEIM comes  into  the  room.] 

BORGHEIM. 

So  that 's  over  —  Miss  Allmers  and  I  have  had 
our  last  walk  together. 

RITA. 

[Looks  at  him  with  surprise.^  Ah  !  And 
there  's  no  longer  journey  to  follow  the  walk  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes,  for  me. 

RITA. 

For  you  alone  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes,  for  me  alone. 

RITA. 

[Glances  darkly  at  ALLMERS.]  Do  you  hear 
that?  [Turns  to  BORGHEIM.]  I '11  wager  it's 
some  one  with  the  evil  eye  that  has  played  you 
this  trick. 

BORGHEIM. 

[Looks  at  her.~\   The  evil  eye? 


Little   Eyolf.  67 

RITA. 

[.Nodding.']  Yes,  the  evil  eye. 

BORGHEIM. 

Do  you  believe  in  the  evil  eye,  Mrs.  Allmers? 

RITA. 

Yes.  I  've  begun  to  believe  in  the  evil  eye. 
Especially  in  a  child's  evil  eye. 

ALLMERS. 

[Shocked,  whispers.]  Rita  —  how  can  you  —  ? 

RITA. 

It 's  you  that  makes  me  so  wicked  and  hate- 
ful, Alfred. 

[Confused  cries  and  shrieks  are  heard  in  the 
distance,  from  the  direction  of  the  fjord.] 
BORGHEIM. 

[Going  to  the  glass  door.~\   What  noise  is  that? 

ASTA. 

[In  the  doorway^]  Look  at  all  those  people 
running  down  to  the  pier  ! 

ALLMERS. 

What  can  it  be  ?  [Looks  out  for  a  moment^] 
I  have  no  doubt  it 's  those  street  urchins  at  some 
nischief  again. 

BORGHEIM. 

[Calls,  leaning  over  the  veranda  railings. ~]   I 
say,  you  boys  down  there  !     What 's  the  matter? 
[Several  voices  are  heard  answering  indis- 
tinctly and  confusedly.] 


68  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

What  do  they  say? 

BORGHEIM. 

They  say  it 's  a  child  that 's  drowned. 

ALLMERS. 

A  child  drowned? 

ASTA. 
[Uneasily.~\  A  little  boy,  they  say. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  they  can  all  swim,  every  one  of  them. 

RITA. 
[Shrieks  in  terror.~\     Where  is  Eyolf? 

ALLMERS. 

Keep  quiet  —  quiet.     Eyolf  is  down  in  the 
garden,  playing. 

ASTA. 

No,  he  was  n't  in  the  garden  — 

RITA. 

\_With  outstretched  arms.']       Oh,    if  only   it 
is  n't  he  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

[Listens,  and  calls  down.~\     Whose  child  is 
it  do  you   say? 

[Indistinct  voices  are  heard.  BORGIIF.IM  and 
ASTA  utter  a  suppressed  cry,  and  rush  out 
through  the  garden.] 


Little  Eyolf.  69 


ALLMERS. 


[In    an    agony   of  dread.]      It  is  n't  Eyolf ! 
It  isn't  Eyolf,  Rita. 

RITA. 

[On   the  veranda,  listening]       Hush!      Be 
quiet !     Let  me  hear  what  they  're  saying  ! 

[RiTA  rushes  back  with  a  piercing  shriek,  into 
the  room.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Following  her.]      What  did  they  say? 

RITA. 

[Sinking  down  beside    the  armchair  on  the 
left.']     They  said  :  "  The  crutch  is  floating  !  " 

ALLMERS. 

[Almost paralyzed.']     No  !     No  !     No ! 
RITA. 

[Hoarsely.]     Eyolf!    Eyolf!     Oh,  but    they 
must  save  him  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Half  distracted.']     They  must,  they  must ! 
So  precious  a  life  ! 

[He  rushes  down  through  the  garden.] 


70  Little  Eyolf. 


THE   SECOND   ACT. 

[A  little  narrow  glen  by  the  water-side  on  ALL- 
MER'S  property.  On  the  left,  lofty  old  trees 
overarch  the  spot.  Down  the  slope  in  the 
background  a  brook  comes  leaping,  and  loses 
itself  among  the  stones  on  the  margin  of  the 
wood.  A  path  winds  along  by  the  brook-side. 
To  the  right  there  are  only  a  few  single  trees, 
between  which  the  fjord  is  visible.  In  front  is 
seen  the  corner  of  a  boat-shed  with  a  boat 
drawn  up.  Under  the  old  trees  on  the  left 
stands  a  table  with  a  bench  and  one  or  two 
chairs,  all  made  of  thin  birch-wood.  It  is  a 
heavy,  damp  day,  with  driving  mist-wreaths. 

ALFRED  ALLMERS,  dressed  as  before,  sits  on 
the  bench,  leaning  his  arms  on  the  table.  His 
hat  lies  before  him.  He  gazes  absently  and 
immovably  out  over  the  water. 

Presently  ASTA  ALLMERS  comes  down  the  wood 
path.  She  is  carrying  an  open  umbrella. 

ASTA. 

[Goes  quietly  and  cautiously  up  to  him.\ 
You  should  n't  sit  down  here  in  this  gloomy 
weather,  Alfred. 

ALLMF.RS. 

[Nods  slowly  without  answering^ 


Little  Eyolf.  71 

ASTA. 

[Closing  her  umbrella.~\  I  Ve  been  search- 
ing for  you  such  a  long  time. 

ALLMERS. 

[Without  expression^     Thank  you. 

ASTA. 

[Mores  a  chair  and  seats  herself  close  to 
him.~\  Have  you  been  sitting  here  long?  All 
the  time? 

ALLMERS. 

[Does  not  answer  at  first.  Presently  he 
says.~\  No,  I  cannot  grasp  it.  It  seems  so 
utterly  impossible  —  all  this. 

ASTA. 

[Laying  her  hand  compassionately  on  his 
arm,~\  Poor  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

.  [Gazing  at  her.~\  Is  it  really  true  then, 
Asta?  Or  have  I  gone  mad?  Or  am  I  only 
dreaming?  Oh,  if  it  were  only  a  dream  !  Just 
think,  if  1  were  to  waken  now  ! 

ASTA. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  waken  you  ! 


72  Little  Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 


[Looking  out  over  the  water."]     How  pitiless 
the    fjord    looks    to-day,    lying    so    heavy    and 
drowsy  —  leaden-gray  —  with  splashes  of  yellow 
—  and  reflecting  the  rain-clouds. 


ASTA. 


[Imploringly. ~\  Oh,  Alfred,  don't  sit  staring 
out  over  the  fjord  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Not  heeding  her.~\  Over  the  surface,  yes. 
But  in  the  depths  —  there  sweeps  the  rushing 
undertow  — 

ASTA. 

[/;/  terror.~]  Oh,  for  God's  sake,  don't 
think  of  the  depths  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  gently  at  hcr.~\  I  suppose  you  think 
he's  lying  close  outside  here?  But  he  isn't, 
Asta.  You  mustn't  think  that.  You  must 
remember  how  fiercely  the  current  sweeps  out 
here  —  straight  to  the  open  sea. 

ASTA. 

[Throws  herself  forward  against  tJic  table, 
and,  sobbing,  buries  )icr  face  in  her  hands.~\ 
Oh,  God  !  Oh,  God  ! 


Little   Eyolf.  73 


ALLMERS. 


[Heavily.'}       So    you    see,    little    Eyolf   has 
passed  so  far  —  far  away  from  us  now. 


ASTA. 


[Looks  imploringly  up  at  him.~\  Oh,  Alfred, 
don't  say  such  things  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Why,  you  can  reckon  it  out  for  yourself — 
you  that  are  so  clever.  In  eight-and-twenty 
hours  —  nine-and-twenty  hours —  Let  me 
see  —  !  Let  me  see  —  ! 

ASTA. 
[Shrieking  and  stopping  her  ears.~\     Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Clenching  his  hand  firmly  upon  the  table. ,] 
Can  you  conceive  the  meaning  of  a  thing  like 
this? 

ASTA. 

[Looks  at  him. ~\      Of  what? 

ALLMERS. 

Of  this  that  has  been  done  to  Rita  and  me. 

ASTA. 

The  meaning  of  it  ? 


74  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Impatiently.]  Yes,  the  meaning,  I  say. 
For,  after  all,  there  must  be  a  meaning  in  it. 
Life,  existence  —  destiny,  cannot  be  so  utterly 
meaningless. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  who  can  say  anything  with  certainty 
about  these  things,  my  dear  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

[Laughs  bitterly, .]  No,  no  ;  I  believe  you  're 
right  there.  Perhaps  the  whole  thing  goes 
simply  by  hap  hazard — taking  its  own  course, 
like  a  drifting  wreck  without  a  rudder.  I  dare- 
say that 's  how  it  is.  At  least,  it  seems  very 
like  it. 

ASTA. 

[Thoughtfully^     What  if  it  only  seems  —  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Vehemently. ~]     Ah?     Perhaps    you  can  un 
ravel   the  mystery  for  me?     I    certainly  can't 
[Mare  gently.~\      Here    is    Eyolf,   just    entering 
upon  conscious  life  :    full  of  such  infinite  pos 
sibilities  —  splendid    possibilities    perhaps:     he 
would  have  filled  my  life  with  pride  and  glad- 
ness.    And  then  a  crazy  old  woman  has  only 
to  come  this  way  —  and  show  a  cur  in  a  bag  — 


Little  Eyolf.  75 

ASTA. 

But  we  don't  in  the  least  know  how  it  really 
happened. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  we  know.  The  boys  saw  her  row  out 
over  the  fjord.  They  saw  Eyolf  standing  alone 
at  the  very  end  of  the  pier.  They  saw  him 
gazing  after  her — and  then  he  seemed  to  turn 
giddy.  [Quivering.']  And  that  was  how  he 
fell  over  —  and  disappeared. 

ASTA. 
Yes,  yes.     But  all  the  same  — 

ALLMERS. 

She  has  drawn  him  down  into  the  depths  — 
that  you  may  be  sure  of,  dear. 

ASTA. 
But,  Alfred,  why  should  she? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  that  is  just  the  question  !  Why  should 
she?  There's  no  retribution  behind  it  all  — 
no  atonement,  I  mean.  Eyolf  never  did  her 
any  harm.  He  never  called  names  after  her ; 
he  never  threw  stones  at  her  dog.  Why,  he  had 
never  set  eyes  either  on  her  or  her  dog  till  yes- 
terday. So  there  's  no  retribution ;  the  whole 
thing  is  utterly  groundless  and  meaningless,  Asta. 
And  yet  the  order  of  the  world  requires  it. 


76  Little   Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

Have  you  spoken  to  Rita  of  these  things  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Shakes  his  head.~\  I  feel  as  if  I  can  talk 
better  to  you  about  them.  [Drawing  a  deep 
breath.'}  And  about  everything  else  as  well. 

[AsTA  takes  sewing-materials  and  a  little  paper 
parcel  out  of  her  pocket.  ALLMERS  sits 
looking  on  absently.] 

ALLMERS. 

What  have  you  got  there,  Asta? 

ASTA. 
[Taking  his  hat.~\     A  little  black  crape. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  what 's  the  use  of  that? 

ASTA. 
Rita  asked  me  to  put  it  on.     May  I? 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  yes  ;  as  far  as  I  'm  concerned  —  [She 
sews  the  crape  on  his  haf.~\ 

ALLMERS. 

[Sifting  and  looking  at  hrr.~\     Where  is  Rita  ? 

ASTA. 

She  's  walking  about  in  the  garden  a  little,  I 
think.  Borgheim  is  with  her. 


Little  Eyolf.  77 

ALLMERS. 

[Slightly  surprised.']     Indeed  !     Is  Borgheim 
out  here  to-day  again  ? 

ASTA. 

Yes.     He  came  out  by  the  mid-day  train. 

ALLMERS. 

I  did  n't  expect  that. 

ASTA. 
[Sewing.~]     He  was  so  fond  of  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Borgheim  is  a  faithful  soul,  Asta. 

ASTA. 

{With   quiet  warmth.}     Yes,  faithful  he  is, 
indeed.     That 's  certain. 

ALLMERS. 

[Fixing  his  eyes  upon   her.~\     You're  really 

fond  of  him. 

ASTA. 
Yes,  I  am. 

ALLMERS. 

And  yet  you  can't  make  up  your  mind  to  —  ? 

ASTA. 

[Interrupting.']     Oh,  my  dear  Alfred,  don't 
talk  of  that  f 


7 8  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  yes ;  tell  me  why  you  can't? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  no  !  Please  !  You  really  must  n't  ask 
me.  You  see,  it 's  so  painful  for  me.  —  There 
now  !  The  hat  is  done. 

ALLMERS. 

Thank  you. 

ASIA. 

And  now  for  the  left  arm. 

ALLMERS. 

Am  I  to  have  crape  on  it? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  that 's  the  custom. 

ALLMERS. 

Well  —  as  you  please. 

[She  moves  close  up  to  him  and  begins  to  sew.] 

ASTA. 

Keep  your  arm  still  —  then  I  won't  prick 
you. 

ALLMERS. 

[With  a  half -smile.'}  This  is  like  the  old 
days. 

ASTA. 

Yes,  don't  you  think  so  ? 


Little   Eyolf.  79 

ALLMERS. 

When  you  were  a  little  girl  you  used  to  sit 
just  like  this,  mending  my  clothes.  The  first 
thing  you  ever  sewed  for  me  —  that  was  black 
crape,  too. 

ASTA. 

Was  it? 

ALLMERS. 

Round  my  student's  cap  —  at  the  time  of 
father's  death. 

ASTA. 

Could  I  sew  then  ?     Fancy,  I  Ve  forgotten  it. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  you  were  such  a  little  thing  then. 

ASTA. 
Yes,  I  was  little  then. 

ALLMERS. 

And  then,  two  years  afterwards  —  when  we 
lost  your  mother  —  then  again  you  sewed  a  big 
crape  band  on  my  sleeve. 

ASTA. 
I  thought  it  was  the  right  thing  to  do. 

ALLMERS. 

[Patting  her  hand.~]  Yes,  yes,  it  was  the 
right  thing  to  do,  Asta.  And  then  when  we 


8o  Little   Eyolf. 

were  left  alone  in  the  world,  we  two Are 

you  done  already? 

ASTA. 

Yes.  [Putting  together  her  sewing-  materials. .] 
It  was  really  a  beautiful  time  for  us,  Alfred. 
We  two  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  it  was  —  though  we  had  to  toil  so  hard. 

ASTA. 

You  toiled. 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  more  lifc^\  Oh,  you  toiled  too,  in 
your  way,  I  assure  you  —  [Smiling.]  my  dear, 
faithful  —  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

Oh  —  you  must  n't  remind  me  of  that  stupid 
nonsense  about  the  name. 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  if  you  'd  been  a  boy,  you  would  have 
been  called  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

Yes,  if !  But  when  you  began  to  go  to 
college [Smiling  involuntarily]  I  won- 
der how  you  could  be  so  childish. 

ALLMERS. 
Was  it  I  that  was  childish? 


Little  Eyolf.  81 

ASTA. 

Yes,  indeed,  I  think  it  was,  as  I  look  back 
upon  it.  You  were  ashamed  of  having  no 
brother  —  only  a  sister. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  no,  it  was  you,  my  dear  — you  were 
ashamed. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes,  I  too,  perhaps  —  a  little.  And  some- 
how or  other  I  was  sorry  for  you 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  I  believe  you  were.  And  then  you 
hunted  up  some  of  my  old  boy's  clothes 

ASTA. 

Your  fine  Sunday  clothes  —  yes.  Do  you 
remember  the  blue  blouse  and  knickerbockers? 

ALLMERS. 

[His  eyes  dwelling  upon  her.~\  How  well  I 
remember  you  when  you  put  them  on  and 
walked  about  in  them. 

ASTA. 
Yes,  but  only  when  we  were  at  home,  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

And  how  serious  we  were,  dear,  and  how 
mightily  pleased  with  ourselves.  I  always  called 
you  Eyolf. 

6 


82  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  Alfred,  I  hope  you  Ve  never  told  Rita 
this? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  I  believe  I  did  once  tell  her. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  Alfred,  how  could  you  do  that? 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  you  see  —  one  tells  one's  wife  every- 
thing —  very  nearly. 

ASTA. 
Yes,  I  suppose  one  does. 

ALLMERS. 

[As  if  awakening,   clutches   at  his  forehead 
and  starts  up.\  Oh,  how  can  I  sit  here  and  — 

ASTA. 

[Rising,  looks  sorrowfully  at  hun.~\   What  is 
the  matter? 

ALLMERS. 

He  had  almost  passed  away  from  me.     He 
had  passed  quite  away. 

ASTA. 
Eyolf ! 


Little  Eyolf.  83 

ALLMERS. 

Here  I  sat,  living  in  my  memories  —  and  he 
had  no  part  in  them. 

ASTA. 

Yes,  Alfred  —  little  Eyolf  was  behind  it  all. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  he  was  not.  He  slipped  out  of  my 
memory  —  out  of  my  thoughts.  I  didn't  see 
him  for  a  moment  as  we  sat  here  talking.  I 
utterly  forgot  him  all  that  time. 

ASTA. 

But  surely  you  must  take  some  rest  in  your 
sorrow. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  no,  no  ;  that  's  just  what  I  won't !  I 
mustn't — I  have  no  right  —  and  no  heart  for 
it,  either.  [  Going  in  great  excitement  towards 
the  right.~]  I  can't  rest  anywhere,  except  out 
there  where  he  lies  drifting  in  the  depths  1 

ASTA. 

{Following  him  and  holding  him  back^\ 
Alfred  —  Alfred  !  Don't  go  to  the  fjord  ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  must  go  out  to  him?  Let  me  go,  Asta? 
I  '11  take  the  boat. 


84  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[In  terror.~\   Don't  go  to  the  fjord.     I  say  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[  Yielding.']  No,  no  —  I  won't.  Only  let  me 
alone. 

ASTA. 

[Leading  him  back  to  the  table.~\  You  must 
rest  from  your  thoughts,  Alfred.  Come  here 
and  sit  down. 

ALLMERS. 

[Making  as  if  to  seat  himself  on  the  bench.~\ 
Well,  well  —  as  you  please. 

ASTA. 
No,  I  won't  let  you  sit  there. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  let  me. 

ASTA. 

No,  don't.  For  then  you  '11  only  sit  looking 
out  —  -  [Forces  him  down  upon  /he  chair, 
with  his  back  to  the  right. ~\  There  now.  Now 
that  's  right.  [Seats  herself  upon  the  bench.~\ 
And  now  we  can  talk  a  little  again. 

ALLMERS. 

[Drawing  a  deep  breath  audibly. ~\  It  was 
good  to  deaden  the  sorrow  and  heart-ache  for 
a  moment. 


Little  Eyolf.  85 

ASTA. 

You  must  do  so,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

But  don't  you  think  it 's  terribly  weak  and 
unfeeling  of  me  to  be  able  to  do  so  ? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  no  —  I  'm  sure  it 's  impossible  to  keep 
circling  for  ever  round  one  fixed  thought. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  for  me  it 's  impossible.  Before  you 
came  to  me,  here  I  sat,  torturing  myself 
unspeakably  with  this  crushing,  gnawing 
sorrow 

ASTA. 

Yes? 

ALLMERS. 

And  would  you  believe  it,  Asta  —  ?     Hm  — 

ASTA. 
Well? 

ALLMERS. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  agony  I  found  myself 
speculating  what  we  should  have  for  dinner 
to-day. 

ASTA. 

[Soothingfy."]  Well,  well,  if  only  it  rests 
you  to  — 


86  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  just  fancy,  dear  —  it  seemed  as  if  it  did 
give  me  rest.  [Holds  out  his  hand  to  her 
across  the  table.^  How  good  it  is,  Asta,  that 
I  have  you  with  me.  I  'm  so  glad  of  that. 
Glad,  glad  —  even  in  my  sorrow. 

ASTA. 

\_Looking  earnestly  at  him.~\  You  ought 
most  of  all  to  be  glad  that  you  have  Rita. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  of  course  I  should.  But  Rita  is  no  kin 
to  me  —  it  is  n't  like  having  a  sister. 

ASTA. 
[Eagerly, .]      Do  you  say  that,  Alfred  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  our  family  is  a  thing  apart.  [Half- 
jestingly.~\  We  've  always  had  vowels  for  our 
initials.  Don't  you  remember  how  often  we 
used  to  speak  of  that?  And  all  our  relations  — 
all  equally  poor.  And  we  have  all  the  same 
color  of  eyes. 

ASTA. 

Do  you  think  I  have  —  ? 

ALLMERS. 

No,  you  take  entirely  after  your  mother. 
You  're  not  in  the  least  like  the  rest  of  us  —  not 
even  like  father.  But  all  the  same  — 


Little  Eyolf.  87 

ASTA. 

All  the  same  —  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  I  believe  that  living  together  has,  as  it 
were,  stamped  us  in  each  other's  image  — 
mentally,  I  mean. 

ASTA. 

[  With  warm  emotion.~\  Oh,  you  must  never 
say  that,  Alfred.  It  is  I  alone  that  have  taken 
my  stamp  from  you ;  and  it 's  to  you  that  I 
owe  everything  —  every  good  in  the  world. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Shaking  his  head.^  You  owe  me  nothing, 
Asta.  On  the  contrary  — 

ASTA. 

I  owe  you  everything !  You  must  never 
doubt  that.  No  sacrifice  has  been  too  great 
for  you  — 

ALLMERS. 

[Interrupting^  Oh,  nonsense  —  sacrifice! 
Don't  talk  of  such  a  thing.  —  I  have  only  loved 
you,  Asta,  ever  since  you  were  a  little  child. 
[After  a  short  pause.~\  And  then  it  always 
seemed  to  me  that  I  had  so  much  injustice  to 
make  up  to  you  for. 

ASTA. 
[Astonished^     Injustice  ?     You  ? 


88  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Not  precisely  on  my  own  account.     But  — 

ASTA. 

[Eagerly.]      But — ? 

ALLMERS. 

On  father's. 

ASTA. 

[Half  rising  from  the  bench]  On  — 
father's  !  [Sitting  doivn  again.]  What  do 
you  mean  by  that,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

Father  was  never  really  kind  to  you. 

ASTA. 
[  Vehemently]     Oh,  don't  say  that ! 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  it's  true.  He  didn't  love  you  —  not  as 
he  ought  to  have. 

ASTA. 

[Evasively]  No,  perhaps  not  as  he  loved 
you.  That  was  only  natural. 

ALLMERS. 

[Continuing]  And  he  was  often  hard  to 
your  mother,  too  —  at  least  in  the  last  years. 


Little  Eyolf. 


ASTA. 

[Softly.']  Mother  was  so  much,  much 
younger  than  he  —  remember  that. 

ALLMERS. 

Do  you  think  they  were  not  quite  suited  to 
each  other? 

ASTA. 
Perhaps  not. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  but  still  — .  Father,  who  in  other  ways 
was  so  gentle  and  warm-hearted  —  so  kindly 
towards  every  one  — 

ASTA. 

\_Quietty.~]  Mother,  too,  was  not  always  as 
she  ought  to  have  been. 

ALLMERS. 

Your  mother  was  n't ! 

ASTA. 
Perhaps  not  always. 

ALLMERS. 

Towards  father,  do  you  mean? 

ASTA. 
Yes. 

ALLMERS. 

I  never  noticed  that. 


90  Little  Eyolf. 


ASTA. 

[Struggling  with  her  tears,  rises.]  Oh,  my 
dear  Alfred  —  let  them  rest  —  those  who  are 
gone. 

[She  goes  towards  the  right.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Rising.]  Yes,  let  them  rest.  [  Wringing  his 
hands .]  But  those  who  are  gone  —  it  's  they 
that  won't  let  us  rest,  Asta.  Neither  day  nor 
night. 

ASTA. 

[Looks  warmly  at  him.~\  Time  will  make  it 
all  seem  easier,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  helplessly  at  her,~\  Yes,  don't  you 
think  it  will?  —  But  how  I  am  to  get  over  these 
terrible  first  days  [Hoarsely.]  —  that  's  what  I 
can't  imagine. 

ASTA. 

[Imploringly,  laying  her  hands  on  his  shoul- 
ders.^ Go  up  to  Rita.  Oh,  please  do  — 

ALLMERS. 

[  Vehemently,  withdrawing  from  her.]  No, 
no,  no  —  don't  talk  to  me  of  that!  I  cannot, 
I  tell  you.  [Afore  calmly. ~\  Let  me  remain  here, 
with  you. 


Little   Eyolf.  91 

ASTA. 

Well,  I  won't  leave  you. 

ALLMERS. 

[Seizing  her  hand  and  holding  itfast.~]  Thank 
you  for  that !  \_Looks  out  for  a  time  over  the 
fjord.~\  Where  is  my  little  Eyolf  now?  [Smiling 
sadly  to  her.~]  Can  you  tell  me  that  —  my  big, 
wise  Eyolf  ?  [Shaking  his  head.~\  No  one  in  all 
the  world  can  tell  me  that.  I  know  only  this 
one  terrible  thing  —  that  he  is  gone  from  me. 

ASTA. 

[Looking  up  to  the  left,  and  withdrawing  her 
hand.~\  Here  they  are  coming. 

[Mrs.  ALLMERS  and  Engineer  BORGHEIM 
come  down  by  the  wood-path,  she  leading 
the  way.  She  wears  a  dark  dress  and  a 
black  veil  over  her  head.  He  has  an  um- 
brella under  his  arm.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Going  to  meet  her.~]  How  is  it  with  you, 
Rita? 

RITA. 

[Passing  him.~\   Oh,  don't  ask. 

ALLMERS. 

Why  do  you  come  here  ? 

RITA. 

Only  to  look  for  you.     What  are  you  doing? 


92  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Nothing.     Asta  came  down  to  me. 

RITA. 

Yes,  but  before  Asta  came  ?      You  Ve  been 
away  from  me  all  the  morning. 

ALLMERS. 

I  Ve  been  sitting  here  looking  out  over  the 
water. 

RITA. 

Ugh,  —  how  can  you  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Impatiently."}   I  like  best  to  be  alone  now. 

RITA. 

[Moving  restlessly  about^\    And    then  to  sit 
still  !     To  stay  in  one  place  ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  move  for. 

RITA. 

I  can't  bear  to  be  anywhere  long.     Least  of 
all  here  —  with  the  fjord  at  my  very  feet. 

ALLMERS. 

It  's  just  the  nearness  of  the  fjord  — 


Little  Eyolf.  93 


RITA. 


\_To  BORGHEIM.]  Don't  you  think  he  should 
come  back  with  the  rest  of  us? 

BORGHEIM. 

\To  ALLMERS.]  I  believe  it  would  be  better 
for  you. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  no ;  let  me  stay  where  I  am. 

RITA. 
Then  I  '11  remain  with  you,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

Very  well ;  do  so,  then.  You  remain  too, 
Asta. 

ASTA. 

[  Whispers  to  BORGHEIM.]  Let  us  leave  them 
alone  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

fj  With  a  glance  of  comprehension^  Miss 
Allmers,  shall  we  go  a  little  further  —  along 
the  shore?  For  the  very  last  time? 

ASTA. 

\Taking  her  umbrella.^\  Yes,  come.  Let  us 
go  a  little  further. 

[ASTA  and  BORGHEIM  go  out  together  behind 

the  boat-shed. 

ALLMERS  wanders  about  for  a  little.  (  Then  he 
seats  himself  on  a  stone  under  the  trees  on 
the  left.] 


94  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 


[Comes  up  and  stands  before  him,  her  hands 
folded  and  hanging  </own.~\  Can  you  think  the 
thought,  Alfred  —  that  we  have  lost  Eyolf? 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  sadly  at  the  ground. ~\  We  must 
accustom  ourselves  to  think  it. 

RITA. 

I  cannot.  I  cannot.  And  then  that  horrible 
sight  that  will  haunt  me  all  my  life  long. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  up.~]  What  sight?  What  have  you 
seen? 

RITA. 

I  Ve  seen  nothing  myself,  I  've  only  heard  it 
told.  Oh  -  -  ! 

ALLMERS. 

You  may  as  well  tell  me  at  once. 

RITA. 

I  got  Borgheim  to  go  down  with  me  to  the 
pier 

ALLMERS. 

What  did  you  want  there? 

RITA. 
To  question  the  boys  as  to  how  it  happened. 


Little  Eyolf.  95 

ALLMERS. 

But  we  know  that. 

RITA. 

We  got  to  know  more. 

ALLMERS. 

Well? 

RITA. 

It  is  n't  true  that  he  disappeared  ali  at  once. 

ALLMERS. 

Do  they  say  that  now  ? 
RITA. 

Yes.  They  say  they  saw  him  lying  down  on 
the  bottom.  Deep  down  in  the  clear  water. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Grinding  his  teeth.~\  And  they  did  n't  save 
him ! 

RITA. 

I  suppose  they  could  n't. 

ALLMERS. 

They  could  swim —  every  one  of  them.  Did 
they  tell  you  how  he  was  lying  whilst  they  could 
see  him? 

RITA. 

Yes.  They  said  he  was  lying  upon  his  back. 
And  with  great,  open  eyes. 


96  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Open  eyes.     But  quite  still? 
RITA. 

Yes,  quite  still.  And  then  something  came 
and  swept  him  away.  They  called  it  the 
undertow. 

ALLMERS. 

[Nodding  slowly."]  So  that  was  the  last  they 
saw  of  him. 

RITA. 

[Suffocated  with  tears.']   Yes. 

ALLMERS. 

[In  a  dull  voice."]  And  never  —  never  will 
any  one  see  him  again. 

RITA. 

[  Wailing.']  I  shall  see  him  day  and  night  as 
he  lay  down  there. 

ALLMERS. 

With  great,  open  eyes. 
RITA. 

[Shuddering."]  Yes,  with  great,  open  eyes. 
1  see  them  !  I  see  them  now  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Rises  slowly,  and  looks  with  quiet  menace  al 
her.']  Were  they  evil,  those  eyes,  Rita? 


Little  Eyolf.  97 

RITA. 

[  Turning  paleJ]   Evil  —  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[  Going  close  up  to  her.]  Were  they  evil  eyes 
that  stared  up  ?  Up  from  the  depths  ? 

RITA. 
[Shrinking from  him.~\  Alfred — ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Following  her.~\  Answer  me  !  Were  they  a 
child's  evil  eyes? 

RITA. 

[Shrieks.'}  Alfred!  Alfred! 

ALLMERS. 

Now  things  have  come  about  —  just  as  you 

wished,  Rita. 

RITA. 

I!     What  did /wish? 

ALLMERS. 

That  Eyolf  was  not  here. 
RITA. 

Never  for  a  moment  have  I  wished  that ! 
That  Eyolf  should  not  stand  between  us  —  that 
was  what  I  wished. 


98  Little   Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  well  —  he  does  not  stand  between  us 
any  more. 

RITA. 

[Softly,  gazing  straight  before  her."]  Perhaps 
now  more  than  ever.  [  With  a  sudden  shudder. ~\ 
Oh,  that  horrible  sight ! 

ALLMERS. 

\_Nods.~]  Yes,  the  child's  evil  eyes. 

RITA. 

[In  dread,  recoiling  from  him.'}  Let  me  be, 
Alfred  !  I  'm  afraid  of  you  !  I  've  never  seen 
you  like  this  before. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looks  harshly  and  coldly  at  her.~]  Sorrow 
makes  us  wicked  and  hateful. 

RITA. 

[2'errified,  an/'  yet  defiant.']  That  is  what  I 
feel,  too. 

[ALLMERS  goes  towards  the  right  and  looks 
out  over  the  fjord.  RITA  seats  herself  at 
the  table.  A  short  pause.] 

ALLMERS. 

[Turning  his  head  towards  her.~\  You  never 
really  and  truly  loved  him  —  never  ! 


Little  Eyolf.  99 


RITA. 

[  With  cold  self-control.']  Eyolf  would  never 
let  me  take  him  really  and  truly,  to  my  heart. 

ALLMERS. 

Because  you  did  not  want  to. 

RITA. 

Oh,  yes,  I  did.     I  did  want  to.     But  some 
one  stood  in  the  way  —  even  from  the  first. 

ALLMERS. 

[Turning  right  round.'}   Do  you  mean  that  / 
stood  in  the  way? 

RITA. 
Oh,  no —  not  at  first. 

ALLMERS. 

[Coming  nearer  her.~\   Who,  then? 

RITA. 

His  aunt. 

ALLMERS. 

Asta? 

RITA. 

Yes.     Asta  stood  and  barred  the  way  for  me. 

ALLMERS. 

Can  you  say  that,  Rita? 


ioo  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

Yes.  Asta — she  took  him  to  her  heart  — 
from  the  moment  that  happened  —  that  miser- 
able fall. 

ALLMERS. 

If  she  did  so,  she  did  it  in  love. 

RITA. 

[  Vehemently^  That 's  just  it !  I  cannot 
endure  to  share  anything  with  any  one  !  Not 
in  love  ! 

ALLMERS. 

We  two  should  have  shared  him  between  us 
in  love. 

RITA. 

[Looking  scornfully  at  him.~\  We?  Oh,  the 
truth  is  you  've  never  had  any  real  love  for  him 
either. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looks  at  her  in  astonishment^   I  have  n't  —  ! 
RITA. 

No,  you  have  n't.  At  first  you  were  so  utterly 
taken  up  by  that  book  of  yours  —  about  respon- 
sibility. 

ALLMERS. 

[Forcibly^  Yes,  I  was.  But  my  very 
book  —  I  sacrificed  for  Eyolfs  sake. 


Little   Eyolf.  101 


RITA. 

Not  out  of  love  for  him. 

ALLMERS. 

Why  then,  do  you  suppose  ? 

RITA. 

Because  you  were  consumed  with  mistrust  of 
yourself.  Because  you  had  begun  to  doubt 
whether  you  had  any  great  vocation  to  live  for 
in  the  world. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Observing  her  closely. ~\  Could  you  see  that 
in  me? 

RITA. 

Oh,  yes  —  little  by  little.  And  then  you 
needed  something  new  to  fill  up  your  life.  —  It 
seems  /  was  n't  enough  for  you  any  longer. 

ALLMERS. 

That  is  the  law  of  change,  Rita. 
RITA. 

And  that  was  why  you  wanted  to  make  a 
prodigy  of  poor  little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

That  was  not  what  I  wanted.  I  wanted  to 
make  a  happy  human  being  of  him.  —  That, 
and  nothing  more. 


102  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

But  not  out  of  love  for  him.  Look  into 
yourself !  [  With  a  certain  shyness  of  expres- 
sion.^ Search  out  all  that  lies  under — and 
behind  your  action. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Avoiding  her  eyes.~\  There  is  something 
you  shrink  from  saying. 

RITA. 
And  you  too. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Looks  thoughtfully  at  her.~]  If  it  is  as  you 
say,  then  we  two  have  never  really  possessed 
our  own  child. 

RITA. 

No.     Not  in  perfect  love. 

ALLMERS. 

And  yet  we  are  sorrowing  so  bitterly  for  him. 
RITA. 

[Wifh  sarcasm. ~\  Yes,  isn't  it  curious  that 
we  should  grieve  like  this  over  a  little  stranger 
boy? 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  an  outburst.^  Oh,  don't  call  him  a 
stranger  ! 


Little  Eyolf.  103 


RITA. 

[Sadly  shaking  her  head.]  We  never  won 
the  boy,  Alfred.  Not  I  —  nor  you  either. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Wringing  his  hands .]  And  now  it 's  too 
late  !  Too  late  ! 

RITA. 

And  no  consolation  anywhere  —  in  anything. 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  sudden  passion.~\  You  are  the  guilty 
one  in  this  ! 

RITA. 

[Rising.]    I ! 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  you  !  It  was  your  fault  that  he  became 
—  what  he  was  !  It  was  your  fault  that  he 
could  n't  save  himself  when  he  fell  into  the 
water. 

RITA. 

[  With  a  gesture  of  repulsion.]  Alfred  — 
you  shall  not  throw  the  blame  upon  me  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[More  and  more  beside  himself.]  Yes,  yes, 
I  do  !  It  was  you  that  left  the  helpless  child 
unwatched  upon  the  table. 


104  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 

He  was  lying  so  comfortably  among  the 
cushions,  and  sleeping  so  soundly.  And  you 
had  promised  to  look  after  him. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,    I    had.     [  Lowering  his  voice. ~\       But 

then  you  came  —  you,  you,  you  —  and    lured 
me  to  you. 

RITA. 

[Looking  defiantly  at  him.~\  Oh,  better  own 
at  once  that  you  forgot  the  child  and  every- 
thing else. 

ALLMERS. 

\_In  suppressed  desperation.']  Yes,  that  is 
true.  \_Lower •.]  I  forgot  the  child  —  in  your 
arms  ! 

RITA. 

\_Exasperatcd.~]  Alfred  !  Alfred  —  this  is 
intolerable  of  you  ! 

ALLMERS. 

\_In  a  low  voice,  clenching  his  fists  before  her 
face.~]  In  that  hour  you  condemned  little 
Eyolf  to  death. 

RITA. 

[  Wildly. ~\  You,  too  !  You,  too  —  if  it  is 
as  you  say  ! 


Little  Eyolf.  105 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  yes  —  call  me  to  account,  too  —  if  you 
will.  We  have  sinned,  both  of  us.  And  so, 
after  all,  there  was  retribution  in  Eyolf  s  death. 

RITA. 
Retribution  ? 

ALLMERS. 

\_With  more  self-control.~]  Yes.  Judgment 
upon  you  and  me.  Now,  as  we  stand  here,  we 
have  our  deserts.  While  he  lived,  we  let  our- 
selves shrink  away  from  him  in  secret,  abject 
remorse.  We  could  not  bear  to  see  it — the 
thing  he  had  to  drag  with  him  — 
RITA. 

[  Whispers .]     The  crutch. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  that.  And  now,  what  we  now  call 
sorrow  and  heartache  —  is  really  the  gnawing  of 
conscience,  Rita.  Nothing  else. 

RITA. 

[Gazing  helplessly  at  him.~\  I  feel  as  if  all 
this  must  end  in  despair  —  in  madness  for  both 
of  us.  For  we  can  never  —  never  make  it  good 
again. 

ALLMERS. 

[Passing  info  a  calmer  mood.~\  I  dreamed 
about  Eyolf  last  night.  I  thought  I  saw  him 


io6  Little  Eyolf. 

coming  up  from  the  pier.  He  could  run  like 
other  boys.  So  nothing  had  happened  to  him 
—  neither  the  one  thing  nor  the  other.  And 
the  torturing  reality  was  nothing  but  a  dream, 
I  thought.  Oh,  how  I  thanked  and  blessed  — 
[Checking  himself.']  Hm  ! 

RITA. 
[Looking  at  him.']     Whom? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Evasivcly. ~\     Whom — ? 

RITA. 

Yes  ;  whom  did  you  thank  and  bless? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Putting  aside    the   question.]     I    was   only 
dreaming,  you  know  — 

RITA. 
One  whom  you  yourself  do  not  believe  in  ? 

ALLMERS. 

That   was    how    I    felt,    all    the    same.       Of 
course,  I  was  sleeping  — 

RITA. 

\_Rcproachfitlly.~]     You  should  n't  have  taught 
me  to  doubt,  Alfred. 


Little  Eyolf.  107 

ALLMERS. 

Would  it  have  been  right  of  me  to  let  you 
go  through  life  with  your  mind  full  of  empty 
fictions  ? 

RITA. 

It  would  have  been  better  for  me  ;  for  then 
I  should  have  had  something  to  take  refuge  in. 
Now  I  am  utterly  at  sea. 

ALLMERS. 

[Observing  her  closely. ~\  If  you  had  the 
choice  now  —  If  you  could  follow  Eyolf  to 
where  he  is  —  ? 

RITA. 

Yes?     What  then? 

ALLMERS. 

If  you  were  fully  assured  that  you  would  find 
him  again  —  know  him  —  understand  him  —  ? 

RITA. 
Yes,  yes;  what  then? 

ALLMERS. 

Would  you,  of  your  own  free  will,  take  the 
leap  over  to  him  ?  Of  your  own  free  will  leave 
everything  behind  you?  Renounce  your  whole 
earthly  life?  Would  you,  Rita? 

RITA. 
\_Softly.~]     Now,  at  once? 


io8  Little   Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes ;  to-day.  This  very  hour.  Answer  me 
—  would  you  ? 

RITA. 

[Hesitating."]  Oh,  I  don't  know,  Alfred, 
No  !  I  think  I  would  first  remain  some  time 
here  with  you. 

ALLMERS. 

For  my  sake? 

RITA. 

Yes,  only  for  your  sake. 

ALLMERS. 

But     afterwards  ?      Would    you     then ? 

Answer  ! 

RITA. 

Oh,  what  can  I  answer?  I  could  not  go 
away  from  you.  Never  !  Never  ! 

ALLMERS. 

But  suppose  now  /  went  to  Eyolf?  And  you 
had  the  fullest  assurance  that  you  would  meet 
both  him  and  me  there.  Then  would  you  come 
over  to  us? 

RITA. 

I  should  want  to  —  so  much  !  so  much  ! 
But  - 

ALLMERS. 


Little   Eyolf.  109 

RITA. 

\_Moaning  softly '.]  I  could  not  —  I  feel  it. 
No,  no,  I  never  could!  Not  for  all  the  glory 
of  heaven  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Nor  I. 

RITA. 

No,  that  is  so,  is  n't  it,  Alfred  !  You  could  n't 
either,  could  you? 

ALLMERS. 

No.  For  it 's  here,  in  the  life  of  earth,  that 
we  living  beings  are  at  home. 

RITA. 

Yes,  here  lies  the  kind  of  happiness  that  we 
can  understand. 

ALLMERS. 

[Darkly. ,]  Oh,  happiness  —  happiness 

RITA. 

You  mean  that  happiness  —  that  we  can  never 
find  it  again?  [Looks  inquiringly  at  him.~\ 

But  if ?  [ Vehemently. ~\  No,  no;  I  dare 

not  say  it !  Nor  even  think  it ! 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  say  it  —  say  it,  Rita. 
RITA. 

[Hesitatingly, .]      Could  we  not  try  to ? 

Would  it  not  be  possible  to  forget  him? 


1 10  Little   Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Forget  Eyolf? 

RITA. 

Forget  the  anguish  and  remorse,  I  mean. 

ALLMERS, 

Can  you  wish  it? 

RITA. 

Yes,  —  if  it  were  possible.  [  With  an  out- 
burst.^ For  this  —  I  can't  bear  this  for  ever  ! 
Oh,  can't  we  think  of  something  that  will  bring 
us  forge  tfulness ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Shakes  his  head.^     What  could  that  be  ? 

RITA. 

Could  we  not  see  what  travelling  would  do  — 
far  away  from  here  ? 

ALLMERS. 

From  home  ?  You  know  that  you  can  never 
thrive  anywhere  but  here. 

RITA. 

Well,  then,  let  us  have  crowds  of  people 
about  us  !  Keep  open  house  !  Plunge  into 
something  that  can  deaden  and  dull  our 
thoughts. 


Little  Eyolf.  1 1 1 

ALLMERS. 

Such  a  life  would  be  impossible  for  me.  — 
No,  —  rather  than  that,  I  would  try  to  take  up 
my  work  again. 

RITA. 

\_Bitingly. ~\  Your  work  —  the  work  that  has 
always  stood  like  a  dead  wall  between  us  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Slowly,  looking  fixedly  at  her.~\  There  must 
always  be  a  dead  wall  between  us  two,  from  this 
time  forth. 

RITA. 

Why  must  there ? 

ALLMERS. 

Who  knows  but  that  a  child's  great,  open 
eyes  are  watching  us  day  and  night. 

RITA. 

[Softly,  shuddering^  Alfred  —  how  terrible 
to  think  of ! 

ALLMERS. 

Our  love  has  been  like  a  consuming  fire. 
Now  it  must  be  quenched 

RITA. 
[  With  a  movement  towards  him.']   Quenched  ! 


H2  Little  Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 

[Hardly. .]      It  is  quenched  —  in  one  of  us. 

RITA. 

\As  if  petrified^  And  you  dare  say  that  to 
me  ! 

ALLMERS. 

\_More  genffy.~\  It  is  dead,  Rita.  But  in 
what  I  now  feel  for  you  —  in  our  common  guilt 
and  need  of  atonement  —  I  seem  to  foresee  a 
sort  of  resurrection 

RITA. 

[  Vehemently^  I  don't  care  a  bit  about  any 
resurrection  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Rita! 

RITA. 

I  am  a  warm-blooded  being !  I  don't  go 
drowsing  about  —  with  fishes'  blood  in  my 
veins.  \_Wringing  her  hands. ~\  And  now  to 
be  imprisoned  for  life  —  in  anguish  and  re- 
morse !  Imprisoned  with  one  who  is  no  longer 
mine,  mine,  mine  ! 

ALLMERS. 

It  must  have  ended  so,  sometime,  Rita. 

RITA. 
Must  have  ended  so  !     The  love  that  in  the 


Little   Eyolf.  nj 

beginning  rushed  forth  so  eagerly  to  meet  with 
love  ! 

ALLMERS. 

My  love  did  not  rush  forth  to  you  in  the 
beginning. 

RITA. 

What  did  you  feel  for  me,  first  of  all? 

ALLMERS. 

Dread. 

RITA. 

That  I  can  understand.  How  was  it,  then, 
that  I  won  you  after  all? 

ALLMERS. 

[/«  a  low  voice. ~\  You  were  so  entrancingly 
beautiful,  Rita. 

RITA. 

{Looks  searchingly  at  him.]  Then  that  was 
the  only  reason?  Say  it,  Alfred!  The  only 
reason  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Conquering  himself,'}  No,  there  was  an- 
other as  well. 

RITA. 

[  With  an  outburst.]  I  can  guess  what  that 
was  !  It  was  "  my  gold,  and  my  green  forests," 
as  you  call  it.  Was  it  not  so,  Alfred  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes. 

8 


H4  Little  Eyolf. 


RITA. 


[Looks  at  him  with  deep  reproach.]  How 
could  you  —  how  could  you  ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  had  Asta  to  think  of. 
RITA. 

[Angrily.]  Yes,  Asta !  [Bitterly."}  Then 
it  was  really  Asta  that  brought  us  two  together? 

ALLMERS. 

She  knew  nothing  about  it.  She  has  no  sus- 
picion of  it,  even  to  this  day. 

RITA. 

[Rejecting  the  plea.]  It  was  Asta,  never- 
theless !  [Smiling,  with  a  sidelong  glance  oj 
scorn.]  Or,  no  —  it  was  little  Eyolf.  Little 
Eyolf,  my  dear  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Eyolf  —  ? 

RITA. 

Yes,  you  used  to  call  her  Eyolf,  did  n't  you? 
I  seem  to  remember  your  telling  me  so  —  once, 
in  a  moment  of  confidence.  [Coming  up  to 
him.]  Do  you  remember  it — that  entranc- 
ingly  beautiful  hour,  Alfred? 


Little  Eyolf.  115 

ALLMERS. 

[Recoiling,  as  if  in  horror ^\  I  remember 
nothing  !  I  will  not  remember, ! 

RITA. 

[Following  him.']  It  was  in  that  hour  — 
when  your  other  little  Eyolf  was  crippled  for 
life! 

ALLMERS. 

[In  a  hollow  voice,  supporting  himself  against 
the  table.']  Retribution  ! 

RITA. 
[Menacingly. ~\     Yes,  retribution  ! 

[ASTA  and  BORGHEIM  return  by  way  of  the 
boat-shed.  She  is  carrying  some  water-lilies 
in  her  hand.] 

RITA. 

[With  self- control.^  Well,  Asta,  have  you 
and  Mr.  Borgheim  talked  things  thoroughly 
over? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes  —  pretty  well. 

[She  puts  down  her  umbrella  and  lays  the 
flowers  upon  a  chair.] 

BORGHEIM. 

Miss  Allmers  has  been  very  silent  during  our 
walk. 


n6  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

Indeed,  has  she?  Well,  Alfred  and  I  have 
talked  things  out  thoroughly  enough  — 

ASTA. 

[Looking  eagerly  at  both  of  them.~\  What  is 
this — ? 

RITA. 

Enough  to  last  all  our  lifetime,  I  say. 
[Breaking  off."}  Come  now,  let  us  go  up  to 
the  house,  all  four  of  us.  We  must  have  com- 
pany about  us  in  future.  It  will  never  do  for 
Alfred  and  me  to  be  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  do  you  go  ahead,  you  two.  [Turning."] 
I  must  speak  a  word  to  you  before  we  go,  Asta. 

RITA. 

[Looking  at  him.~\  Indeed?  Well  then, 
you  come  with  me,  Mr.  Borgheim. 

IR.ITA  and  BORGHEIM  go  up  the  wood-path.) 

ASTA. 

[Anxiously. ~\     Alfred,  what  is  the  matter? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Darkty.~]  Only  that  I  cannot  endure  to  be 
here  any  more. 


Little  Eyolf.  117 

ASTA. 

Here  !     With  Rita,  do  you  mean  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes.      Rita    and    I    cannot    go    on    living 
together. 

ASTA. 

[Seizes  his  arm  and  shakes  it.~\     Oh,  Alfred 
—  don't  say  anything  so  terrible  ! 

ALLMERS. 

It 's  the    truth   I    am  telling  you.     We  are 
making  each  other  wicked  and  hateful. 

ASTA. 

\_With  painful  emotion, .]      I    had   never  — 
never  dreamed  of  anything  like  this ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  did  n't  realize  it  either,  till  to-day. 

ASTA. 

And  now  you  want  to  — .     What  is  it  you 
really  want,  Alfred  ? 

ALLMERS. 

I  want  to  get  away  from  everything  here  — 
far,  far  away  from  it  all. 

ASTA. 
And  to  stand  quite  alone  in  the  world? 


n8  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Nods.]     As  I  used  to  be  before,  yes. 

ASTA. 
But  you  're  not  fit  to  be  alone  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  yes.  I  was  so  in  the  old  days,  at  any 
rate. 

ASTA. 

In  the  old  days,  yes ;  for  then  you  had  me 
with  you. 

ALLMERS. 

[Trying  to  take  her  hand.]  Yes.  And  it's 
to  you,  Asta,  that  I  now  want  to  come  home 
again. 

ASTA. 

[Eluding  him]  To  me  !  No,  no,  Alfred  ! 
That  is  quite  impossible. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looks  sadly  at  her]  Then  Borgheim  stands 
in  the  way  after  all? 

ASTA. 

[Earnestly]  No,  no  ;  he  does  not !  That 
is  quite  a  mistake  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Good.  Then  I  will  come  to  you  —  my  dear, 
dear  sister.  I  must  come  to  you  again  —  home 


Little  Eyolf.  119 

to  you,  to  be  purified  and  ennobled  after  my 

life  with 

ASTA. 

\_Sho eke d.~\  Alfred, —  you  are  doing  Rita  a 
great  wrong. 

ALLMERS. 

I  have  done  her  a  great  wrong.  But  not  in 
this.  Oh,  think  of  it,  Asta  —  think  of  our  life 
together,  yours  and  mine.  Was  it  not  like  one 
long  holy- day  from  first  to  last? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  it  was,  Alfred.  But  we  can  never  live 
it  over  again. 

ALLMERS. 

\_J3itterly.~]  Do  you  mean  that  marriage  has 
so  irreparably  ruined  me? 

ASTA. 
^Quietly. ,]      No,  that  is  not  what  I  mean. 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  then  we  two  will  live  our  former  life 
over  again. 

ASTA. 

\With  decision^     We  cannot,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  we  can.  For  the  love  of  a  brother  and 
sister 


120  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[Eagerly.]     What  of  it  ? 

ALLMERS. 

That  is  the  only  relation  in  life  that  is  not 
subject  to  the  law  of  change. 

ASTA. 

[Softly  and  tremblingly.^     But  if   that  rela- 
tion were  not 

ALLMERS. 

Not ? 

ASTA. 

—  not  our  relation? 

ALLMERS. 

[Stares  at  her  in  astonishment.^     Not  ours? 
Why,  what  can  you  mean  by  that? 

ASTA. 
It  is  best  I  should  tell  you  at  once,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  yes ;  tell  me  ! 

ASTA. 

The  letters  to  mother — .     Those  in  my  port- 
folio   

ALLMERS. 


Little   Eyolf.  121 


ASTA. 

You  must  read  them  —  when  I  am  gone. 

ALLMERS. 

Why  must  I  ? 

ASTA. 

[Struggling  with  herself.'}  For  then  you  will 
see  that  

ALLMERS. 

Well? 

ASTA. 

—  that  I  have  no  right  to  bear  your  father's 
name. 

ALLMERS. 

[Staggering  backwards.'}  Asta  !  What  is  this 
you  say  ! 

ASTA. 

Read  the  letters.  Then  you  will  see — and 
understand.  And  perhaps  have  some  forgive- 
ness —  for  mother,  too. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Clutching  at  his  forehead.'}  I  cannot  grasp 
this  —  I  cannot  realize  the  thought.  You, 
Asta  —  you  are  not 

ASTA. 
You  are  not  my  brother,  Alfred. 


122  Little   Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 


[Quickly t  half  defiantly,  looking  at  her.~\ 
Well,  but  what  difference  does  that  really 
make  in  our  relation?  Practically  none  at  all. 

ASTA. 

[Shaking  her  head.~\  It  makes  all  the  differ- 
ence, Alfred.  Our  relation  is  not  that  of 
brother  and  sister. 

ALLMERS. 

No,  no.  But  it  is  none  the  less  sacred  for 
that  —  it  will  always  be  equally  sacred. 

ASTA. 

Don't  forget  —  that  it  is  subject  to  the  law  of 
change,  as  you  said  just  now. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looks  inquiringly  at  her.~\  Do  you  mean 
that ? 

ASTA. 

[Quietly,  but  with  warm  emotion^}  Not  a 
word  more  —  my  dear,  dear  Alfred.  [Takes  up 
the  flowers  from  the  chair.']  Do  you  see  these 
water-lilies? 

ALLMERS. 

[Nodding  slowly^  They  are  the  sort  that 
shoot  up  —  from  the  very  depths. 


Little  Eyolf.  123 

ASTA. 

I  pulled  them  in  the  tarn  —  where  it  flows 
out  into  fjord.  '[Holds  them  out  to  him.~\  Will 
you  take  them,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

[Taking  them.~\   Thanks. 

ASTA. 

[  With  tears  in  her  eyes.~]  They  are  like  a  last 
greeting  from  —  from  little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  at  her •.]  From  Eyolf  out  yonder? 
Or  from  you? 

ASTA. 

[Soj ?/]'.]    From  both  of  us.   [Taking  up  her 
umbrella.~\   Now  come  with  me  to  Rita. 
[She  goes  up  the  wood-path.] 
ALLMERS. 

[Takes  iip  his  hat  from  the  table,  and  whis- 
pers sadly, ,]  Asta.  Eyolf.  Little  Eyolf ! 

[He  follows  her  up  the  path.] 


124  Little  Eyolf. 


THE   THIRD   ACT. 

An  elevation,  overgrown  with  shrubs,  in  ALL- 
MERS'  garden.  At  the  back  a  sheer  cliff,  with 
a  railing  along  its  edge,  and  with  steps  on  the 
left  leading  downwards.  An  extensive  view 
over  the  fjord,  which  lies  deep  below.  A  flag- 
staff with  lines,  but  no  flag,  stands  by  the 
railing.  In  front,  on  the  right,  a  summer- 
house,  covered  with  creepers  and  wild  vines. 
Outside  it,  a  bench.  It  is  a  late  summer  even- 
ing, with  clear  sky.  Deepening  twilight. 

ASTA  is  sitting  on  the  bench,  with  her  hands  in 
her  lap.  She  is  wearing  her  outdoor  dress 
and  a  hat ;  has  her  parasol  at  her  side,  and 
a  little  travelling-bag  on  a  strap  over  her 
shoulder. 

BoRGHEIM  comes  up  from  the  back  on  the  left. 
He,  too,  has  a  travelling-bag  over  his  shoulder 
He  is  carrying  a  rolled-up  flag. 

BORGHEIM. 

[Catching  sight  ^/AsTA.]  Oh,  so  you  're  up 
here  ! 

ASTA. 

Yes,  I  'm  taking  my  last  look  out  over  the 
fjord. 

BORGHEIM. 

Then  I  'm  glad  I  happened  to  come  up. 


Little  Eyolf.  125 

ASTA. 

Have  you  been  searching  for  me? 

BOKGHEIM. 

Yes,  I  have.  I  wanted  to  say  good-by  to 
you  —  for  the  present.  Not  for  good  and  all, 
I  hope. 

ASTA. 

\_With  a  faint  smile .]   You  are  persevering. 

BORGHEIM. 

A  road-maker  has  got  to  be. 

ASTA. 

Have  you  seen  anything  of  Alfred?  Or  of 
Rita? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes,  I  saw  them  both. 

ASTA. 

Together  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

No  —  apart. 

ASTA. 

What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  flag? 

BORGHEIM. 

Mrs.  Allmers  asked  me  to  come  up  and  hoist  it. 

ASTA. 

Hoist  a  flag  just  now? 


126  Little  Eyolf. 

BORGHEIM. 

Half-mast  high.  She  wants  it  to  fly  both 
night  and  day,  she  says. 

ASTA. 
\_Sighing.~]   Poor  Rita  !     And  poor  Alfred  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

\_Busied  with  the  flag."]  Have  you  the  heart 
to  leave  them?  I  ask  because  I  see  you  are  in 
travelling-dress. 

ASTA. 

[In  a  low  voice.']   I  must  go. 

BORGHEIM. 

Well,  if  you  must,  then  — 

ASTA. 

And  you  are  going,  too,  to-night? 

BORGHEIM. 

I  must,  too.  I  am  going  by  the  train.  Are 
you  going  that  way? 

ASTA. 
No.     I  shall  take  the  steamer. 

BORGHKIM. 

\_Glancing  at  her.\  We  each  take  our  own 
way,  then? 


Little  Eyolf.  127 

ASTA. 

Yes. 

[She  sits  and  looks  on  while  he  hoists  the 
flag  half-mast  high.  When  he  has  done  he 
goes  up  to  her.] 

BORGHEIM. 

Miss  Asta  —  you  can't  think  how  grieved  I 
am  about  little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[Looks  up  at  himJ]     Yes,  I  'm  sure  you  feel 
it  deeply. 

BORGHEIM. 

And  the  feeling  tortures  me.     For  the  fact  is, 
grief  is  not  much  in  my  way. 

ASTA. 

[Raising  her  eyes  to  the  flag."]      It  will  pass 
over  in  time  —  all  of  it.     All  our  sorrow. 

BORGHEIM. 

All?     Do  you  believe  that? 

ASTA. 

Like  a  squall  at  sea.     When   once  you  Ve 
got  far  away  from  here,  then  — 

BORGHEIM. 

It  will  have  to  be  very  far  away  indeed. 


128  Little    Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

And  then  you  have  this  great  new  road- 
work,  too. 

BORGHEIM. 

But  no  one  to  help  me  in  it. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes,  surely  you  have. 

BORGHEIM. 

[Shaking  his  head.~\  No  one.  No  one  to 
share  the  gladness  with.  For  it's  gladness  that 
most  needs  sharing. 

ASTA. 
Not  the  labor  and  trouble  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

Pooh  —  that  sort  of  thing  one  can  always 
get  through  alone. 

ASTA. 

But  the  gladness  —  that  must  be  shared  with 
some  me,  you  think? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes  ;  for  if  not,  where  would  be  the  pleasure 
in  being  glad? 

ASTA. 

Ah,  yes  —  perhaps  there  's  something  in  that 


Little  Eyolf.  129 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  of  course,  for  a  certain  time  you  can  go 
on  feeling  glad  in  your  own  heart.  But  it 
won't  do  in  the  long  run.  No,  it  takes  two  to 

be  glad. 

ASTA. 

Always  two?     Never  more?     Never  many? 

BORGHEIM. 

Well,  you  see  —  then  it  becomes  a  quite 
different  matter.  Miss  Asta  —  are  you  sure 
you  can  never  make  up  your  mind  to  share 
gladness  and  success  and  —  and  labor  and 
trouble,  with  one  —  with  one  alone  in  all  the 
world  ? 

ASTA. 

I  have  tried  it  —  once. 

BORGHEIM. 

Have  you? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  all  the  time  that  my  brother  —  that 
Alfred  and  I  lived  together. 

BORGHEIM. 

Oh,  with  your  brother,  yes.  But  that 's  al- 
together different.  That  ought  rather  to  be 
called  peace  than  happiness,  I  should  say. 

ASTA. 

It  was  delightful,  all  the  same. 
9 


130  Little  Eyolf. 

BORGHEIM. 

There  now  —  you  see  even  that  seemed  to 
you  delightful.  But  just  think  now  —  if  he 
had  n't  been  your  brother  ! 

ASTA. 

\_Makes  a  movement  to  rise,  but  remains  sit- 
ting.^ Then  we  would  never  have  been  to- 
gether. For  I  was  a  child  then  —  and  he 
was  n't  much  more. 

BORGHEIM. 

[After  a  pause. ~\  Was  it  so  delightful  —  that 
time? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes,  indeed  it  was. 

BORGHEIM. 

Was  there  much  that  was  really  bright  and 
happy  in  your  life  then? 

ASTA. 

Oh,  yes,  so  much.  You  can't  think  how 
much. 

BORGHEIM. 

Tell  me  a  little  about  it,  Miss  Asta. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  there  are  only  trifles  to  tell. 


Little   Eyolf.  131 

BORGHEIM. 

Such  as  — ?     Well? 

ASTA. 

Such  as  the  time  when  Alfred  had  passed 
his  examination  —  and  had  distinguished  him- 
self. And  then,  from  time  to  time,  when  he 
got  a  post  in  some  school  or  other.  Or  when 
he  would  sit  at  home  working  at  an  article  — 
and  would  read  it  aloud  to  me.  And  then 
when  it  would  appear  in  some  magazine. 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes,  I  can  quite  see  that  it  must  have  been 
a  peaceful,  delightful  life  —  a  brother  and  sis- 
ter sharing  all  their  joys.  \_Shaking  his  Jiead.~\ 
What  I  can't  understand  is  that  your  brother 
could  ever  give  you  up,  Asta. 

ASTA. 

[  With  suppressed  emotion.^  Alfred  married, 
you  know. 

BORGHEIM. 

Was  n't  that  very  hard  for  you  ? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  at  first.  It  seemed  as  though  I  had 
utterly  lost  him  all  at  once. 

BORGHEIM. 

Well,  luckily  it  was  n't  so  bad  as  that. 


132  Little   Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

No. 

BORGHEIM. 

But,  all  the  same  —  how  could  he  !  Go  and 
marry,  I  mean  —  when  he  could  have  kept 
you  with  him,  alone  ! 

ASTA. 

[Looking  straight  in  front  of  her."\     He  was 

subject  to  the  law  of  change,  I  suppose. 

BORGHEIM. 

The  law  of  change  ? 

ASTA. 

So  Alfred  calls  it. 

BORGHEIM. 

Pooh  —  what  a  stupid  law  that  must  be  !  I 
don't  believe  a  bit  in  that  law. 

ASTA. 

[_Rising.~\  You  may  come  to  believe  in  it,  in 
time. 

BORGHEIM. 

Never  in    all    my   life  !      [Insistently  J\     But 
listen,  now,  Miss  Asta  !     Do  be   reasonable  — 
for  once  in  a  way  —  in  this  matter,  I  mean  — 

ASTA. 

[Interrupting  him. ~\  Oh,  no,  no  —  don't  let 
us  begin  upon  that  again  ! 


Little   Eyolf.  133 

BORGHEIM. 

[Continuing  as  before.~\  Yes,  Asta —  I  can't 
possibly  give  you  up  so  easily.  Now  your 
brother  has  everything  as  he  wishes  it.  He 
can  live  his  life  quite  contentedly  without  you. 
He  does  n't  require  you  at  all.  Then  this  — 
this  —  that  at  one  blow  has  changed  your  whole 

position  here 

ASTA. 

\_With  a  start^  What  do  you  mean  by 
that? 

BORGHEIM. 

The  child  that  has  been  snatched  away. 
What  else  should  I  mean? 

ASTA. 

[Recovering  her  self-control.^  Little  Eyolf  is 
gone,  yes. 

BORGHEIM. 

And  what  more  does  that  leave  you  to  do 
here  ?  You  have  n't  the  poor  little  boy  to  take 
care  of  now.  You  have  no  duties  —  no  claims 
upon  you  of  any  sort. 

ASTA. 

Oh,  please,  Mr.  Borgheim  —  don't  make  it 
so  hard  for  me. 

BORGHEIM. 

I  must ;  I  should  be  mad  if  I  did  n't  try  my 
uttermost.  I  shall  be  leaving  town  before  very 


Little  Eyolf. 

long,  and  perhaps  I  shall  have  no  opportunity 
of  meeting  you  there.  Perhaps  I  shall  not  see 
you  again  for  a  long,  long  time.  And  who 
knows  what  may  happen  in  the  meanwhile? 

ASTA. 

[  With  a  grave  smile, .]  So  you  are  afraid  of 
the  law  of  change,  after  all. 

BORGHEIM. 

No,  not  in  the  least.     [Laughing  bitterly.~\ 
And  there  's  nothing  to  be  changed,  either  — 
not  in  you,  I  mean.     For  I  can  see  you  don't 
care  much  about  me. 

ASTA. 
You  know  very  well  that  I  do. 

BORGHEIM. 

Perhaps,  but  not  nearly  enough.  Not  as  I 
want  you  to.  \_More  forcibly^  By  heaven, 
Asta — Miss  Asta —  I  can't  tell  you  how  strongly 
I  feel  that  you  are  wrong  in  this  !  A  little  on- 
ward, perhaps,  from  to-day  and  to-morrow,  all 
life's  happiness  may  be  awaiting  us.  And  we 
must  needs  pass  it  by  !  Do  you  think  we  won't 
come  to  repent  of  it,  Asta? 

ASTA. 

\_Quieffy.~]  I  don't  know.  I  only  know  that 
they  are  not  for  us  —  all  these  bright  possibilities. 


Little  Eyolf.  135 

BORGHEIM. 

\_Looks  at  her  with  self- control^  Then  I 
must  make  my  roads  alone? 

ASTA. 

[Warmly, .]  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  could  stand 
by  you  in  it  all !  Help  you  in  the  labor  — 
share  the  gladness  with  you 

BORGHEIM. 

Would  vou  —  if  you  could  ? 

ASTA. 

Yes,  that  I  would. 

BORGHEIM. 

But  you  can't? 

ASTA. 

\_Looking  down.~\  Would  you  be  content  to 
have  only  half  of  me? 

BORGHEIM. 

No.     You  must  be  utterly  and  entirely  mine. 

ASTA. 

\_Looks  at  him,  and  says  quietly. ~\  Then  I 
cannot. 

BORGHEIM. 

Good-by  then,  Miss  Asta. 

[He  is  on  the  point  of  going.  ALLMERS  comes 
up  from  the  left  at  the  back.  BORGHEIM 
stops.] 


136  Little   Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 


\_TTie  moment  he  has  reached  the  top  oj  the 
steps  points,  and  says  in  a  low  voicc.~\  Is  Rita 
in  there  —  in  the  summer-house  ? 


BORGHEIM. 


No ;  there  's  no  one  here  but  Miss  Asta. 
[ALLMERS  comes  forward.] 


ASTA. 


[Going  towards  ///;;/.]  Shall  I  go  down  and 
look  for  her?  Shall  I  get  her  to  come  up  here? 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  a  negative  gestitrc.~\  No,  no,  no  — 
let  it  alone.  \To  BORGHEIM.]  Is  it  you  that 
have  hoisted  the  flag? 

BORGHEIM. 

Yes.  Mrs.  Allmers  asked  me  to.  That  was 
what  brought  me  up  here. 

ALLMERS. 

And  you  're  going  to  start  to-night? 

RORGHEIM. 

Yes.     To-night  I  go  away  in  good  earnest. 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  a  glance  at  ASTA.]  And  you  have 
made  sure  of  pleasant  company,  I  daresay. 


Little  Eyolf.  137 

BORGHEIM. 

[Shaking  his  head.~\     I  am  going  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  surprise.~\     Alone  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

Utterly  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Absently. ~\     Indeed  ? 

BORGHEIM. 

And  I  shall  have  to  remain  alone,  too. 

ALLMERS. 

There 's  something  horrible  in  being  alone. 
The  thought  of  it  runs  like  ice  through  my 
blood 

ASTA. 

Oh,  but,  Alfred,  you  are  not  alone. 

ALLMERS. 

There  may  be  something  horrible  in  that 
too,  Asta. 

,    ASTA. 

[Oppressed.']  Oh,  don't  talk  like  that  I 
Don't  think  like  that  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Not  listening  to  hcr.~\  But  since  you  are 
not  going  with  him  —  ?  Since  there  's  nothing 


ij8  Little  Eyolf. 

to   bind  you  —  ?     Why  won't  you  remain  out 
here  with  me  —  and  with  Rita  ? 

ASTA. 

\_Restlessfy.~]  No,  no,  I  cannot.  I  must 
go  back  to  town  now. 

ALLMERS. 

But  only  in  to  town,  Asta.     Do  you  hear  ! 

ASTA. 
Yes. 

ALLMERS. 

And  you  must  promise  me  that  you  '11  soon 
come  out  again. 

ASTA. 

[  Quickly. .]  No,  no,  I  dare  n't  promise  you 
that,  for  the  present. 

ALLMERS. 

Well  —  as  you  will.  We  '11  soon  meet  in 
town,  then. 

ASTA. 

[Imploringly. ~\  But,  Alfred,  you  must  stay 
at  home  here  with  Rita  now. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Without  answering,  turns  to  BORGHEIM.]  It 
may  perhaps  be  a  good  thing  for  you,  after  all. 
that  you  have  to  take  your  journey  alone. 


Little  Eyolf.  139 

BORGHEIM. 

[Annoyed.~\  Oh,  how  can  you  say  such  a 
thing  ! 

ALLMERS. 

You  see,  you  can  never  tell  whom  you  might 
happen  to  meet  afterwards  —  on  the  way. 

ASTA. 
[Involuntarily .]     Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

The  right  fellow-traveller  —  when  it 's  too 
late  —  too  late. 

ASTA. 

\_Softly,  quivering^     Alfred  !   Alfred  ! 

BORGHEIM. 

[Looking  from  one  to   the  other.~\      What  is 
the  meaning  of  this  ?     I  don't  understand  — 
[RlTA  comes  up  from  the  left  at  the  back.] 

RITA. 

\JPlaintively  ^\  Oh,  don't  go  away  from  me, 
all  of  you  ! 

ASTA. 

\_Going  towards  her.']  You  said  you  pre- 
ferred to  be  alone. 

RITA. 

Yes,  but  I  dare  not.  It 's  getting  so  horribly 
dark.  I  seem  to  see  great,  open  eyes  fixed 
upon  me  ! 


140  Little   Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

[Tenderly  and  sympathetically^  What  if  it 
were  so,  Rita?  You  shouldn't  be  afraid  of 
those  eyes. 

RITA. 

How  can  you  say  so  !     Not  afraid  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Insistently. ~]  Asta,  I  beg  you  —  for  heaven's 
sake  —  remain  here  with  Rita  ! 

RITA. 
Yes  !    And  with  Alfred,  too.    Do  !    Do,  Asta  ! 

ASTA. 

[Struggling  with  herself .~\      Oh,  I  want  to  so 

much 

RITA. 

Well,  then,  do  it !  For  Alfred  and  I  cannot 
go  alone  through  the  sorrow  and  heartache. 

ALLMERS. 

[Darkly  ^\  Say,  rather  —  through  the  rank- 
lings  of  remorse. 

RITA. 

Oh,  whatever  you  like  to  call  it  —  we  cannot 
bear  it  alone,  we  two.  Oh,  Astn.  I  beg  and 
implore  you  !  Stay  here  and  help  us  !  Take 
Eyolf s  place  for  us  — 


Little   Eyolf.  141 


ASTA. 


[Shrinking.]     Eyolf 's- 


RITA. 

Yes,  would  you  not  have  it  so,  Alfred? 

ALLMERS. 

If  she  can  and  will. 

RITA. 

You  used  to  call  her  your  little  Eyolf.  [Seizes 
her  hand.]  Henceforth  you  shall  be  our  Eyolf, 
Asta  !  Eyolf,  as  you  were  before. 

ALLMERS. 

\_With  concealed  emotion.]  Remain  —  and 
share  our  life  with  us — .  With  Rita.  With 
me.  With  me  —  your  brother  ! 

ASTA. 

[  With    decision,   snatches  her  hand  away] 
No.     I    cannot.      [  Turning.]     Mr.   Borgheim 
-  what  time  does  the  steamer  start? 

BORGHEIM. 

Now,  at  once. 

ASTA. 

Then  I  must  go  on  board.     Will  you  go  with 

me? 

BORGHEIM. 

[  With  a  suppressed  outburst  of  joy.]  Will  I  ? 
Yes,  yes  ! 


142  Little  Eyolf. 

ASTA. 

Then  come  ! 

RITA. 

[Slowly.']  Ah!  That's  how  it  is.  Well, 
then  you  cannot  stay  with  us? 

ASTA. 

[Throwing  her  arms  round  her  neckJ] 
Thanks  for  everything,  Rita  !  [  Goes  up  to 
ALLMERS  and  grasps  his  hand.~]  Alfred  — 
good-by  !  A  thousand  times,  good-by  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[So/fly  and  eagerly. ~\  What  is  this,  Asta? 
It  seems  as  though  you  were  taking  flight. 

ASTA. 

\_In  subdued  anguish.^  Yes,  Alfred  —  I  am 
taking  flight. 

ALLMERS. 

Flight  —  from  me  ! 

ASTA. 

r  Whispering^]     From  you  —  and  from  myself. 

ALLMERS. 

[Shrinking  back.~\      Ah  —  ! 

[ASTA  rushes  down  the  steps  at  the  back. 
BOKGHEIM  waves  his  hat  and  follows  her. 

RITA  leans  against  the  entrance  to  the 
summer-house.  ALLMERS  goes,  in  strong 
inward  emotion,  tip  to  the  railing,  and  stands 
there  gazing  downwards.  A  pause.] 


Little  Eyolf.  143 

ALLMERS. 

[Turns,  and  says  with  hard-won  composure,] 
There  comes  the  steamer.  Look,  Rita. 

RITA. 
I  dare  not  look  at  it. 

ALLMERS. 

You  dare  not? 

RITA. 

No.  For  it  has  a  red  eye  —  and  a  green 
one,  too.  Great,  glowing  eyes. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  that  's  only  the  lights,  you  know. 
RITA. 

Henceforth  they  are  eyes  —  for  me.  They 
stare  and  stare  out  of  the  darkness  —  and  into 
the  darkness. 

ALLMERS. 

Now  she  's  putting  into  shore. 
RITA. 

Where  are  they  mooring  her  this  evening, 
then  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Coming forward.*}     At  the  pier,  as  usual  — 

RITA. 

[Drawing  herself  up.~]  How  can  they  moor 
her  there  ! 


144  Little   Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

They  must. 

RITA. 

But  it  was  there  that  Eyolf —  !  How  can 
they  moor  her  there  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  life  is  pitiless,  Rita. 

RITA. 

Men    are  heartless.     They  take    no  thought 

—  either  for  the  living  or  for  the  dead. 

ALLMERS. 

There  you  are  right.     Life  goes  its  own  way 

—  just  as  if  nothing  in  the  world  had  happened. 

RITA. 

[Gazing  straight  before  her.~\  And  nothing 
has  happened,  either.  Not  to  others.  Only 
to  us  two. 

ALLMERS. 

[The pain  re-awakening^\  Yes,  Ritn  —  so  it 
was  to  no  purpose  that  you  bore  him  in  sorrow 
and  anguish.  For  now  he  is  gone  again  —  and 
has  left  no  trace  behind  him. 

RITA. 
Only  the  crutch  was  saved. 


Little  Eyolf.  145 

ALLMERS. 

[Angrily '.]  Be  silent !  Don't  let  me  hear 
that  word. 

RITA. 

[Plaintively.^  Oh,  I  cannot  bear  the  thought 
that  he  is  gone  from  us. 

ALLMERS. 

[Coldly  and  bitterly J\  You  could  very  well  do 
without  him  while  he  was  with  us.  Half  the 
day  would  often  pass  without  your  setting  eyes 
on  him. 

RITA. 

Yes,  for  I  knew  that  I  could  see  him  when- 
ever I  would. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  that 's  how  we  Ve  gone  and  squandered 
the  short  time  we  had  with  little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

[Listening,  in  dread.~\  Do  you  hear,  Alfred  ! 
Now  it 's  ringing  again  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  over  the  fjoni.~\  It 's  the  steamer 
bell  that  is  ringing.  It 's  just  starting. 

RITA. 

Oh,  it  isn't  that  bell  I  mean.  All  day  I 
have  heard  it  ringing  in  my  ears.  —  Now  it 's 
ringing  again  ! 


146  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Going  up  to  her.'}  You  are  mistaken,  Rita. 
RITA. 

No,  I  hear  it  so  plainly.  It  sounds  like  a 
knell.  Slow.  Slow.  And  always  the  same 
words. 

ALLMERS. 

Words?     What  words? 

RITA. 

\Nodding  her  head  in  the  rhythm.~\  "  The 
crutch  is  —  fl6ating.  The  crutch  is  —  fl6ating." 
Oh,  surely  you  must  hear  it,  too  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  his  head.~\  I  hear  nothing.  And 
there  is  nothing  to  hear. 

RITA. 

Oh,  you  may  say  what  you  will  —  I  hear  it  so 
clearly. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  out  over  the  railing^  Now  they  are 
on  board,  Rita.  Now  the  steamer 's  on  her 
way  to  the  town. 

RITA. 

Is  it  possible  you  don't  hear  it?  "  The  crutch 
is  —  fl6ating.  The  crutch  is  — 


Little  Eyolf.  147 

ALLMERS. 

[Coming  forward. ~]  You  shall  not  stand  there 
listening  to  a  sound  that  does  n't  exist.  I  tell 
you,  Asta  and  Borgheim  are  on  board.  They 
have  started  already.  Asta  is  gone. 

RITA. 

[Looks  timidly  at  him.~\  Then  I  suppose  you 
will  soon  be  gone,  too,  Alfred  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Quickly. ,]   What  do  you  mean  by  that? 

RITA. 
That  you  will  follow  your  sister. 

ALLMERS. 

Has  Asta  told  you  anything? 

RITA. 

No.  But  you  said  yourself  it  was  for  Asta's 
sake  that  —  that  we  came  together. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes,  but  you,  you  yourself  have  bound  me  to 
you  —  by  our  life  together. 

RITA. 

Oh,  in  your  eyes  I  am  not  —  I  am  not  — 
entrancingly  beautiful  any  more- 


148  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

The    law   of  change   may   perhaps  keep  us 
together,  none  the  less. 

RITA. 

[Nodding  slowly.']  There  is  a  change  in  me 
now  —  I  feel  the  anguish  of  it. 

ALLMERS. 

Anguish  ? 

RITA. 

Yes,  for  change,  too,  is  a  sort  of  birth. 

ALLMERS. 

It  is  —  or  a    resurrection.     Transition   to  a 
higher  life. 

RITA. 

[Gazing  sadly  before  her.~\    Yes  —  with  the 
loss  of  all,  all  life's  happiness. 

ALLMERS. 

That  loss  is  just  the  gain. 

RITA. 

[  Vehemently. ~\  Oh,  phrases  !     Good  Heavens, 
we  are  creatures  of  earth  after  all. 

ALLMERS. 

But    something   akin    to    the    sea    and    the 
heavens  too,  Rita. 

RITA. 

You  perhaps.     Not  I. 


Little   Eyolf.  149 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  yes  —  you  too,  more  than  you  yourself 
suspect. 

RITA. 

[Advancing  a  pace  towards  him.~\  Tell  me, 
Alfred  —  could  you  think  of  taking  up  your 
work  again? 

ALLMERS. 

The  work  that  you  have  hated  so  ? 

RITA. 

I  am  easier  to  please  now.  I  am  willing  to 
share  you  with  the  book. 

ALLMERS. 

Why? 

RITA. 

Only  to  keep  you  here  with  me  —  to  have 
you  near  me. 

ALLMERS. 

Oh,  it 's  so  little  I  can  do  to  help  you,  Rita. 

RITA. 
But  perhaps  I  could  help  you. 

ALLMERS. 

With  my  book,  do  you  mean? 

RITA. 
No ;  but  to  live  your  life. 


150  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  his  head.~\  I  seem  to  have  no  life 
to  live. 

RITA. 

Well  then,  to  endure  your  life. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Darkly,  looking  away  from  her.~\  I  think  it 
would  be  best  for  both  of  us  that  we  should 
part. 

RITA. 

[Looking  curiously  at  hini.~\  Then  where 
would  you  go  ?  Perhaps  to  Asta,  after  all  ? 

ALLMERS. 

No  —  never  again  to  Asta. 

RITA. 
Where  then? 

ALLMERS. 

Up  into  the  solitudes. 

RITA. 

Up  among  the  mountains  ?  Is  that  what  you 
mean? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes. 

RITA. 

But  all  that  is  mere  dreaming,  Alfred  !  You 
could  not  live  up  there. 


Little  Eyolf.  151 

ALLMERS. 

And  yet  I  feel  myself  drawn  to  them. 

RITA. 

Why?     Tell  me  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Sit  down  —  and  I  will  tell  you  something. 

RITA. 
Something  that  happened  to  you  up  there  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes. 

RITA. 

And  that  you  never  told  Asta  and  me? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes. 

RITA. 

Oh,  you  're  so  silent  about  everything.      You 
ought  n't  to  be. 

ALLMERS. 

Sit  down  there  —  and  I  will  tell  you  about  it. 

RITA. 
Yes,  yes  —  tell  me  ! 

[She  sits  on  the  bench  beside  the  summer-house.] 

ALLMERS. 

I  was  alone  up  there,  in  the  heart  of  the  great 
mountains.     I  came  to  a  wide,  dreary  mountain 


152  Little  Eyolf. 

lake ;  and  that  lake  I  had  to  cross.  But  I 
could  not  —  for  there  was  neither  a  boat  nor 
any  one  there. 

RITA. 
Well?     And  then? 

ALLMERS. 

Then  I  went  without  any  guidance  into  a  side 
valley.     I  thought  that  by  that  way  I  could  push 
on  over  the   heights  and  between  the  peaks  — 
and  then  down  again  on  the  other  side  of  the 
lake. 

RITA. 

Oh,  and  you  lost  yourself,  Alfred  ! 

ALLMERS. 

Yes  ;  I  mistook  the  direction  —  for  there  was 
no  path  or  track.     And    all    day  I  went  on  — 
and  all  the  next  night.     And  at  last  I  thought  1 
should  never  see  the  face  of  man  again. 

RITA. 

Not  come  home  to  us?     Oh,  then,  I  am  sure 
your  thoughts  were  with  us  here. 

ALLMERS. 

No  —  they  were  not. 

RITA. 
Not? 


Little  Eyolf.  153 

ALLMERS. 

No.  It  was  so  strange.  Both  you  and  Eyolf 
seemed  to  have  drifted  far,  far  away  from  me 

—  and  Asta,  too. 

RITA. 
Then  what  did  you  think  of? 

ALLMERS. 

I  did  not  think.  I  dragged  myself  along 
among  the  precipices  —  and  rejoiced  in  the 
peace  and  luxury  of  death. 

RITA. 

{Springing  up.~\  Oh,  don't  use  such  words 
of  that  horror  ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  did  n't  feel  it  so.  I  had  no  dread.  Here 
went  death  and  I,  it  seemed  to  me,  like  two 
good  fellow-travellers.  It  all  seemed  so  natural 

—  so    simple,   I    thought.     In    my    family,   we 
don't  live  to  be  old 

RITA. 

Oh,  don't  say  such  things,  Alfred  !  You  see 
you  came  safely  out  of  it,  after  all. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes ;  all  of  a  sudden  I  found  myself  where  I 
wanted  to  be  —  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake. 


154  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 

It  must  have  been  a  night  of  terror  for  you, 
Alfred.  But  now  that  it 's  over,  you  won't  admit 
it  to  yourself. 

ALLMERS. 

That  night  sealed  my  resolution.  And  it  was 
then  that  I  turned  about  and  came  straight 
homewards.  To  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

[Softly.']     Too  late. 

ALLMERS. 

Yes.  And  then  when  —  my  fellow-traveller 
came  and  took  him  —  then  I  felt  the  horror  of 
it ;  of  it  all ;  of  all  that,  in  spite  of  everything, 
we  dare  not  tear  ourselves  away  from.  So 
earth-bound  are  we,  both  of  us,  Rita. 

RITA. 

[  With  a  gleam  of  joy '.]  Yes,  you  are,  too, 
are  n't  you  !  [Coming  close  to  him.~\  Oh,  let 
us  live  our  life  together  as  long  as  we  can  ! 

ALLMERS. 

[Shrugging  his  shoulders,"]  Live  our  life, 
yes  !  And  have  nothing  to  fill  life  with.  An 
empty  void  on  all  sides  —  wherever  I  look. 


Little  Eyolf.  155 

RITA. 

\_InJ fear '.]  Oh,  sooner  or  later  you  will  go 
away  from  me,  Alfred  !  I  feel  it !  I  can  see  it 
in  your  face  !  You  will  go  away  from  me. 

ALLMERS. 

With  my  fellow-traveller,  do  you  mean? 

RITA. 

No,  I  mean  worse  than  that.  Of  your  own 
free  will  you  will  leave  me  —  for  you  think  it 's 
only  here,  with  me,  that  you  have  nothing  to 
live  for.  Isn't  that  what  is  in  your  thoughts? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Looking  steadfastly  at  her.~\  What  if  it 
were  so ? 

[A  disturbance,  and  the  noise  of  angry,  quar- 
relling voices  is  heard  from  down  below  in 
the  distance.  ALLMERS  goes  to  the  railing.] 

RITA. 

What  is  that?  [With  an  outburst.'}  Oh, 
you  '11  see,  they  have  found  him  ! 

ALLMERS. 

He  will  never  be  found. 

RITA. 

But  what  is  it  then? 


156  Little   Eyolf. 


ALLMERS. 

[Coming  forward. ~\    Only  fighting  —  as  usual. 

RITA. 

Down  on  the  beach  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes.  The  whole  village  down  there  ought  to 
be  swept  away.  Now  the  men  have  come  home 
—  drunk,  as  they  always  are.  They  are  beating 
the  children  —  do  you  hear  the  boys  crying  ! 
The  women  are  shrieking  for  help  for  them  — 

RITA. 

Should  n't  we  get  some  one  to  go  down  and 
help  them? 

ALLMERS. 

\_Harshly  and  angrily.']  Help  them,  who 
did  n't  help  Eyolf !  Let  them  go  —  as  they  let 
Eyolf  go. 

RITA. 

Oh,  you  must  n't  talk  like  that,  Alfred ! 
Nor  think  like  that ! 

ALLMERS. 

I  cannot  think  otherwise.  All  the  old  hovels 
ought  to  be  torn  down. 

RITA. 

And  then  what 's  to  become  of  all  the  poor 
people? 


Little   Eyolf.  157 

ALLMERS. 

They  must  go  somewhere  else. 

RITA. 

And  the  children,  too? 

ALLMERS. 

Does  it  make  much  difference  where  they  go 
to  the  dogs? 

RITA. 

\_Quictly  and  reproachfully^  You  are  forc- 
ing yourself  into  this  harshness,  Alfred. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Vehe mently.~\  I  have  a  right  to  be  harsh 
now  !  It  is  my  duty. 

RITA. 
Your  duty? 

ALLMERS. 

My  duty  to  Eyolf.  He  must  not  lie  un- 
avenged. Once  for  all,  Rita  —  it  is  as  I  tell 
you  !  Think  it  over  !  Have  the  whole  place 
clown  there  razed  to  the  ground  —  when  I  am 
gone. 

RITA. 

\_Looks  intently  at  ki/>i.~\    When  you  are  gone  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes.  For  that  will  at  least  give  you  some- 
thing to  fill  your  life  with  —  and  something 
you  must  have. 


158  Little   Eyolf. 


RITA. 


\_Firmly  and  decidedly]  There  you  are 
right  —  I  must.  But  can  you  guess  what  I 
will  set  about  —  when  you  are  gone  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  what? 

RITA. 

\_Slowfy  and  with  resolution]  As  soon  as  you 
are  gone  from  me,  I  will  go  down  to  the  beach, 
and  bring  all  the  poor  neglected  children  home 
with  me.  All  the  mischievous  boys 

ALLMERS. 

What  will  you  do  with  them  here? 

RITA. 
I  will  take  them  to  my  heart. 

ALLMERS. 

You! 

RITA. 

Yes,  I  will.  From  the  day  you  leave  me, 
they  shall  all  be  here,  all  of  them,  as  if  they 
were  mine. 

ALLMERS. 

[Shocked.]     In  our  little  Eyolfs  place? 

RITA. 

Yes,  in  our  little  KyolPs  place.  They  shall 
live  in  Eyolfs  rooms.  They  shall  read  his 


Little  Eyolf.  159 

books.     They  shall  play  with  his  toys.     They 
shall  take  it  in  turns  to  sit  in  his  chair  at  table. 

ALLMERS. 

But  this  is  sheer  madness  of  you  !  I  don't 
know  a  creature  in  the  world  that 's  less  fitted 
for  anything  of  that  sort  than  you. 

RITA. 

Then  I  shall  have  to  educate  myself  for  it ; 
to  train  myself;  to  discipline  myself. 

ALLMERS. 

If  you  are  really  in  earnest  about  this  — 
about  all  you  say  —  then  there  must  indeed  be 
a  change  in  you. 

RITA. 

Yes,  there  is,  Alfred  —  and  for  that  I  have 
you  to  thank.  You  have  made  an  empty  place 
within  me ;  and  I  must  try  to  fill  it  up  with 
something  —  with  something  that  is  a  little  like 
love. 

ALLMERS. 

[Stands  for  a  moment  lost  in  thoitght ;  then 
looks  at  herJ\  The  truth  is,  we  have  n't  done 
much  for  the  poor  people  down  there. 

RITA. 
We  have  done  nothing  for  them. 


160  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

Scarcely  even  thought  of  them. 

RITA. 
Never  thought  of  them  in  sympathy. 

ALLMERS. 

We,  who  had  "  the  gold  and  the  green 
forests " 

RITA. 

Our  hands  were  closed  then.  And  our 
hearts  too. 

ALLMERS. 

\_Nods.~]  Then  it  was  perhaps  natural  enough, 
after  all,  that  they  should  n't  risk  their  lives  to 
save  little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

\_Softfy.~]  Think,  Alfred  !  Are  you  so  cer- 
tain that  —  that  we  would  have  risked  ours  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[  With  a  restless  gesture  of  repulsion.']  You 
must  never  doubt  that. 

RITA. 
Oh,  we  are  children  of  earth. 

ALLMERS. 

What  do  you  really  think  you  ran  do  with  all 
these  neglected  children? 


Little  Eyolf.  161 

RITA. 

I  suppose  I  must  try  if  I  cannot  lighten  and 
—  and  ennoble  their  lot  in  life. 

ALLMERS. 

If  you  can  do  that  —  then  Eyolf  was  not 
born  in  vain. 

RITA. 

Nor  taken  from  us  in  vain,  either. 

ALLMERS. 

[Looking  steadfastly  at  her.~\  Be  quite  clear 
about  one  thing,  Rita  —  it  is  not  love  that  is 
driving  you  to  this. 

RITA. 

No,  it  is  not  —  at  any  rate,  not  yet. 

ALLMERS. 

Well,  then  what  is  it? 

RITA. 

\_Half-evasively ?\  You  have  so  often  talked  to 
Asta  of  human  responsibility  — 

ALLMERS. 

Of  the  book  that  you  hated. 

RITA. 

I  hate  that  book  still.     But  I  used  to  sit   and 
listen  to  what  you  told  her.     And  now  I  will  try 
to  continue  it  —  in  my  own  way. 
ii 


1 62  Little  Eyolf. 

ALLMERS. 

[Shaking  his  headJ\  It  is  not  for  the  sake  of 
that  unfinished  book 

RITA. 

No,  I  have  another  reason  as  well. 

ALLMERS. 

What  is  that  ? 

RITA. 

[Softfy,  with  a  melancholy  smilc.~\  I  want  to 
make  my  peace  with  the  great,  open  eyes,  you 
see. 

ALLMERS. 

[Struck,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  her.~\  Perhaps,  I 
could  join  you  in  that  ?  And  help  you,  Rita  ? 

RITA. 
Would  you  ? 

ALLMERS. 

Yes  —  if  I  were  only  sure  I  could 

RITA. 

[Hesitatingly. ~\  But  then  you  would  have  to 
remain  here. 

ALLMERS. 
[Softly. ~\   Let  us  try  if  it  could  not  be  so 

RITA. 

[Almost  inaudibly.~\     Yes,  let  us,  Alfred. 

[Both  are  silent.  Then  ALI.MKRS  goes  up  to 
the  flagstaff  and  hoists  the  flag  to  the  top 
RITA  stands  beside  the  summer-house  and 
looks  at  him  in  silence.] 


Little  Eyolf.  163 

ALLMERS. 

[Coming  forward  again.~\  We  have  a  heavy 
day  of  work  before  us,  Rita.   , 
RITA. 

You  will  see  —  that  now  and  then  a  Sabbath 
peace  will  descend  on  us. 

ALLMERS. 

[Quietly,  with  emotion^  Then,  perhaps,  we 
will  know  that  the  spirits  are  with  us. 

RITA. 

[Whispering^  The  spirits? 

ALLMERS. 

[As  before.~\  Yes,  they  will  perhaps  be 
around  us  —  those  whom  we  have  lost. 

RITA. 

[  Nods  slowly  ^\  Our  little  Eyolf.  And  your 
big  Eyolf,  too. 

ALLMERS. 

[  Gazing  straight  before  him.']  Now  and  then, 
perhaps,  we  may  still  —  on  the  way  through 
life  —  have,  as  it  were,  a  glimpse  of  them. 

RITA. 
Where  shall  we  look  for  them,  Alfred  ? 

ALLMERS. 

[Fixing  his  eyes  upon  her.~\   Upwards. 


164  Little  Eyolf. 

RITA. 

[Nods  in  approval^  Yes,  yes  —  upwards. 

ALLMERS. 

Upwards  —  towards  the  peaks.     Towards  the 
stars.     And  towards  the  great  silence. 

RITA. 
[  Giving  him  her  hand.~]  Thanks  ! 


THE    END. 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
AND  SONS  COMPANY,  AT  THE 
LAKESIDE  PRESS,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


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